Keep Running: The Snow and Blood Stories of the 30th Hunger Games
by Danny Takuto
Summary: Three decades have passed since the beginning of the Hunger Games. To celebrate, Head Gamemaker Ryun Flickerman built his best work yet. However, not everything can go as planned. The President is getting older with his health is starting to fall. The District are growing, and with that interviewer around, things are not going to be that easy for him.
1. Reporting from Ryun Flickerman

The 30th Hunger Games.

by DTPhenom

Fanfiction of the Hunger Games. As in, I don't own squat, all I own is the OC'S I created and the plotline. That is all.

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**Edited: September 25, 2014 **

**Third Reaping chapter now up. One more till the Train Rides. Information regarding it on Chapter 8.**

**Enjoy! Please leave reviews, they are much appreciated. Favorite and add to alerts as well.**

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1st POV- Ryun Flickerman- Head Gamemaker- Male- Age of 26

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"Well, this is interesting."

"Of course it is Wren. I feel like this is my best work since the Quarter Quell." I said, pressing a button to display an overhead view of the arena. With basic graphs and charts on the side as well. This type of arena have never before seen in the Hunger Games so far. And therefore, new arena means new mutts, and I have just the plans for that.

"That was your debut year as Head Gamemaker, you were still a fresh guppy. The only reason it was so memorable because it was the first damn Quarter Quell." Wren smirked. I really wonder why he keeps ticking me off. I may not be a brawler but I know ways around and into a fight. The only reason we are not killing each other is because of the President's orders not to 'cause a nuisance'.

"Like you could make a better one." I retorted. Wren just scoffed as he leaned back against the wall.

"Just be glad I don't want to deal with Berretta's tamper tantrums. Already been close to neutered once." Wren sighed, as he took my vodka bottle from the table and started chugging it down.

I really don't care anymore.

As on cue, the phone rang as the holographic screen showed the President's face. Wren stopped drinking the vodka and I straighten up.

"Answer." I told the screen, and now comes the live video chat with the President himself.

"Greetings, Ryun." The President said, and he looked over to Wren. "Greetings, Wren. I am assuming both of you are almost done with this year's arena, am I correct?"

"Oh, sir, we are done, all we need now is the shipment of the mutts genetic forms from District 10 then we will be all set." I told him.

"Excellent work, my boy, mind if you would send me the presentation of the arena, or would you want to go for the surprise factor. I heard it is a never before seen arena." The President ask, normally I would give him the presentation via holo-mail but this year, not even the President know what the arena is. Just the way I like it.

"I think we would find out soon enough." I told him. The President nods then turned off the video chat. I sighed as I began walking towards the table near where Wren was leaning by.

"Ah, the surprise factor, I hope the President will deem this arena worth his time of watching and waiting. He already got rebellion problems in the Districts to worry about." Wren said, nearly finishing my vodka. I reached towards the table. Quickly took his wallet and pulled out twenty Panem coins from it. Wren shouted in indignation, but he was busy enjoying the last sips of vodka to care. Twenty coins was enough to repay the bottle.

"Well, lets go inform the rest of the staff about this new development. Wren, say it over the loud speaker, I will set the meeting room up." I instructed him. Wren just stayed where he was, giving me an uninterested look. I reached over to his wallet again but he quickly snatched it, sighed, then walked out of the planning room.

I exited the room too, and then walked toward the designated meeting room. Now then, where would I find Berretta at this time of day?

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**A.N**

**I know the first chapter sucks, but once I improved my writing skills, I will re-edit this chapter to make it bearable.**

**And thus concludes the first prologue chapter for this SYOT. This is my first time and I hope I am able to complete this one. To those who will continue reading this, thank you. And you can submit your own tribute. The form is on my profile but I will list the main requirements here. Though most should go without saying.**

**- Submitting through review is strictly prohibited.**

**- While yes this is first come first serve. I reserve the right to change some aspect of the tribute.**

**- Mary and Gary Sues are strictly prohibited. They will be either rejected or bloodbaths.**

**- You are allowed so send in up to three tributes max. If you do send in three tributes, at least one should be bloodbath.**

**- Don't complain if I kill your tribute(s) off. It is for the plot and once all tributes are submitted, I will decide the Victor based on purely plot development.**

**- Be creative, but remember, moderation is key.**

**If I don't have a boy and a girl for each District by the time I reach the last Prologue chapter, I will fill in the gap with OC's so we can continue on with this.**

**Have questions, comments. or tips for this SYOT? Leave them in the review box and I will reply to you shortly.**


	2. A Furry Surprise

1st POV- Felicia Cray- Climate and Temperature Control Gamemaker- Female- Age of 23

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"There, all done darling, you look fantastic!" My mother exclaimed. I couldn't help but smile. She totally did my hair perfectly. A teal green tint with most of my hair curled in a simple bun. She tainted my nails to match my hair, a lovely teal green, and put vibrant magenta makeup around my eyes to bring out the color of my eyes, which were a light grey and green type of color.

I put on my Gamemaker robe and my magenta high heels shoes, then turned to the mirror. It shown a beautiful girl, despite my petite height, with a robe of high authority, and who also have some decent type of fashion sense, but wouldn't let that get in the way of business. Overall, perfection.

I called my mom goodbye and headed out the door. Unlike most Gamemakers, I don't have a limousine. It is not that I am not able to get one, but the fact that I don't want one. Having a driver makes me feel weak, something I just refuse to be. And with driving, I gain a sense of freedom of being able to go where I please. And today, I will need to go to the Gamemaker Headquarters to analyze and make plans for the weather in the year's Hunger Games. Last year I did have a role, but not as large as some of the other Gamemakers. The arena last year was large acres of farmland ranging from cornfields, to barns, to horse riding grounds, and etcetera. There was not a lot of climate change and the largest task I had to do was that tornado near the end of the Games. It is not that I don't like my job, considering I get well amount of pay and celebrity status, it is just that it can be frustrating sometimes. Even though this year, I will be surely busy in my department, it is just some of my co-workers can get annoying and irritating sometimes.

If I were to do a presentation based on annoyances in the office, Wren would be Exhibit A.

Now, driving through the glorious and modern streets of the Capitol. weaving through other cars to soon find myself in the Gamemaker Headquarters. Otherwise known as the place where 'Games are born'. After showing my I.D to the Peacekeepers, they allowed me entrance to the building.

I decided to first go to my office to gather my information and weather patterns that I have researched and put the data in peta-drive. I will have to give this to Ryun later so he can examine my work. It seems I have everything in order, and it seems to be a bit early. I may have time to relax in the courtyard behind the HQ and begin reading that book I got from the Library a while ago.

Turning around, I locked the door to my office and head down the halls to the doors which led to the beautiful gardenia which is a relaxing extra to the hard life of a Gamemaker. Sitting down in the stone seats in the fountain, I set my purse down and took out the book. _Jessica_. Such a bland title, but, I am pretty sure the content of the book is what makes it extraordinary and being highly acclaimed by critics and appraisers. I may be in one of the most important and wanted careers in Panem, but I am not one to miss out on the latest trends.

As I open the first page and begin to indulge myself in the story, I heard a strange noise coming from the rose bed. Wasn't there was a force field surrounding the garden? Against my better judgment, I put the book down and walked over to the source of the noise. Carefully pulling back roses, I saw something white move around the stems. A tail? I touched it and as soon as I felt the fur, it moved, and it came out of the flowers.

An adorable white kitten.

"Aww" I cooed as I held it in my arm. Its coat is covered with dirt, making the white a little less bright, the tail obviously remained clean though.

But, how did it get in the garden? There was probably a hole in it or a place where little furry creatures can get in. It doesn't matter though, because I need to get ready for the meeting. I can not leave it to die however, I may technically be helping in the death of District kids, but I am not heartless, unlike some of the other Gamemakers. I picked it up gently as it rubbed itself on my sleeve, I didn't mind the dirt however, I am not a clean freak, and I put it in my purse. I gave it one of the cookies I brought from home and zipped up the bag halfway, to allow air to the kitten.

If they, especially Ryun and his Deputy Gamemaker, Wren, find out about me bringing a kitten to the all famous HQ, I can only imagine their faces. Besides, the other female Gamemakers will not allow the poor kitten to get killed. Speaking of meeting, I need to go back to my office and see where can I put the kitten, then get prepared for the meeting. A quick look at my watch told me that I wont have any time to do that.

In fact, I am close to twenty minutes left.

I am so screwed.

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**I would like to apologize for the ten day wait. Prologue chapters are tough and I had a short writer's block. But hey, I am now back. Spots are still open, and there is still time. First come, first serve, don't want to be left out!**


	3. Pride and Guilt

1st POV- Ruby Syed- The 29th Hunger Games District 1 Female Tribute- Age of 17

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Running through the thick of the corn stalks, I had one destination in mind. Even though the wind is howling straight at my ears, and the rain splattering down my face, I still keep pushing forward, sprinting to what could be my deathbed. Most of the arena is covered in ruins and blood already, and I know for a fact that there is only three living things left in this wasteland. Me, that District 10 boy, and my ally and only friend in this hellhole, the District 4 girl Kayla. I wish we didn't meet this way, fighting for our lives in the Games. There could only be one Victor and I hope District 10 killed her so I wouldn't have to. There haven't been a cannon for the past hour so I guess she is still alive.

I have come to regret volunteering. Not the best idea I had.

Why am I thinking these thoughts? What would mom say if she saw me giving up? And my sister, how would she react? I am from District 1 damn it. I should have some District pride. I can't let my loved ones down, no matter what the cost.

I see an opening through the underbrush of the stalks, as I race towards it. I shouldn't have left my mace behind, but to increase speed is better when running away from a spiraling twister at your heels. Luckily, I have some sort of weapon to protect myself, the knife I had been given not by Capitol sponsors, but by my family at home. It is a special knife, because it is the only thing that brings me comfort here in this place.

It reminds me of my life., waiting for me, because here, in the ruins of what was an arena, is not my life.

I see an opening through the corn and rushes through. No one is there, well at least not yet, and despite my stamina, I am tired. Looking around, trying to see through the thick rain, I heard something. Something like two things banging against each other, then a shriek.

It all came silent then.

Maybe the District 10 boy got her, and is coming for me. But then again, I heard no cannon, and that means she is still alive. She won't make it far though, that is one thing I know. It saddens me, because even though this place is hell, me and her always look on the bright side, and generally, trying to continue to live through this. We backed each other up through the bloodbath, they days that follow, and even when the Careers was no more, we were always inseparable.

That is, when the tornado struck, we lost sight of each other, and now we are split up.

I had been pulled immediately from my thoughts when I heard sounds near the corn stalks. Taking on the defensive side, I readied my knife. Maybe the District 10 boy want to take me out first, then deal with Kayla after I was dead. Tough luck for him, I am not going down that easily. Tensing up as I saw the person come out, I wasn't prepared for the scene at all.

It was Kayla, with a deep gash across her chest, her clothes all full of blood that it went from green to a unappealing color of deep red and dark green. And there is a hole in which an ear used to be in. I could only stare at her as she came closer to me. I didn't feel scared because she dropped her trident probably while fighting the boy. I noticed she is leaving a large trail of blood while she walks, which is dripping from the wounds due to the rain.

She came closer as I stood there wondering what is she going to do. Once she is in face to face reach, she put her arms around me and held me tight. She whispered one word in my ear, and that point I knew that she is not going to make it.

"Run."

I couldn't take this anymore, I am a lot of things but I am not someone to give up. How could Kayla tell me to quit and run? I am not a fool, but I know what she meant. I don't want her to suffer, but I don't want anyone at home, nor the Capitol to think I am a coward. So, I did the one thing I was told to do.

To put her out of her misery.

As she kept hugging me for dear life. I grabbed my knife and rammed it in her lungs. I feel the blood flowing out of her body and into my hands but at the moment I didn't care. I stopped focusing on the knife as I looked at her straight in the eye. I could see the shock in them, the betrayal that held in them. And for the first time in the two weeks I have been in this place, I felt something I never had.

Guilt.

I couldn't look her in the eyes now, so I bid her goodbye and pulled the knife out and dropped her to the floor. I ran out of the scene of my crime, as I hear the cannon boom through the air. Only two of us are left in the place, and I am determined to be the last one standing. I want to be with my mom, I miss the warmth of her hugs, and the smile on her face, and I miss the playfulness of my sister. I don't want her to grow up without me, that is what drives me the most.

Besides I already bloodied my hands five times in this place, another one will no longer do me any harm. I already murdered the only friend I had in this reincarnation of hell, and a random guy won't do much difference.

I follow the path of blood Kayla left as the rain continue to pour down heavily. I can barely see ten feet in front of me due to both the plants and the rain blocking my way, but I only focused on the blood. Soon enough, it lead to a small ranch, and even though the rain washed away most of the blood, I know there was a lot of blood. It amazes me how Kayla managed to survive, but in the end, it was all in vain I supposed. I followed the blood till it reaches a barn.

I am positive this is where District 10 is, and I know that this building will be one of our grave. I see smoke coming from the smokestack near the barn, so the kid is making a fire. I don't know what he is doing, but it would be the last thing he did. I will make sure of it.

Opening the door. I was greeted by the kid putting a sword close by the fire, most likely smelting it to make it sharper. He looked at me with disinterested eyes and sighed. What is he, mocking me? If I didn't have the patience I would've been stupid enough to throw the damn knife at point blank at his head. That would have been a damn idiotic thing to do, because the only other time I saw him was in the bloodbath, and he have high standard reflexes. A simple knife won't kill him that easily.

"So it have come to this, huh?" The boy spoke, standing up and arching his back. Do he wants to spare some times before his imminent death? Is that is his plan? Well, I cant just fling my only weapon at him. He have a sword, I only have a knife. The odds are not really in my favor.

"No shit Sherlock, this is the finale. And don't think talking will spare you time, I will end you, and I will become Victor." I retorted. I decided to play along, see what he might do. I didn't pay too much attention to him, but in Training I saw him work on long ranged weapons, and he is just terrible. He is a short ranged fighter, I am trained in both of the styles. Also, count the fact I have more experience, it means I have better control over weapons. District 10 don't generally have strong tributes. In fact there is only one Victor from there, and she won twenty four years ago.

Overall, if I can get that sword away from him, I can kill him, then go home.

"Funny, every year people say they are going to be Victor, as you propose. But where are most of them now?"

"Dead, but you should know, I am not most people." I replied. The boy stopped and looked at me. I don't know what he is thinking. Have logic finally struck him, and to not underestimate me. Sadly, he still haven't gotten the point, since I saw a sneer from here.

"Well of course you are not 'most people'. Even if you do manage to kill me and be a Victor. Well here is something to think about. We kill other humans being just for our necessities and survival. Even if you do win, you are a murderer. Same goes for me. So really, what is the point in all this?" He asked me.

I looked away, unable yet again to look someone in the eye. I cant argue that what he is saying is true. I have been trained that killing is just something that must be done in order to win. I never gave much thought or concern for that. I never even thought about the tributes I killed, aside from Kayla, who is waiting for them at home, whose families are currently mourning for their lost child. It makes me feel this tingling feeling once again. The feeling of guilt.

I cant let this get to me. I am supposed to go home to my family. I won't let this trick of him get to me.

"This is hilarious. You try to make me feel emotions so you can just catch me off guard. Listen you little shit. I am tired of talking. Fight me now or I will end you here." I growled. Even with that threat he still have that smug expression on his face. He then dropped his sword and turned around to pick something up.

It was a trident. Kayla's trident.

"I assume you remember this. While this is not a pitchfork, this still resemble one and is suitable for maiming and killing. I was going to just kill you with the sword, but I think it would be most suited to end your life with the blood of your so called 'ally'. After all, a life for a life, blood for blood." He smirked, getting in a neutral pose with Kayla's weapon. So, he finally stopped talking? About damn time.

I took my knife out and waited for him to strike. He expected me to charge full force with my knife? It is pissing me off, underestimating me. This is like an insult to me, and I will make a show for the Capitol by torturing him slowly, the stab him in one of the arteries, that way, there would be a lot of blood for the Capitol to enjoy. It will be memorable, and I will go down in history.

We just stood there for a few minutes waiting for him to attack. Finally, he seemed like he could take me on, as he ran towards me with the weapon aimed to kill, but while he looked like he was going to stab me. He did the opposite, he threw the trident at me. I quickly dodged it by stepping out of the way by the last second. When I went back to look at the boy, he is directly in front of me with a knife pulled out.

I didn't think, just reacted on instinct, and parried the blade with my knife. The boy looked irritated as he pulled by and attempted the stab me in the throat. I quickly blocked again. I didn't have time to counter attack however, since he keep trying to stab me at speed surprisingly most Careers could not achieve. It seems I underestimated him too, and now I am forced to just parry the blade until I can find an opening.

I don't know how long have we been going back and forth. All I was focusing on was trying not to get killed. His slices are fast, precise, and unpredictable. It is just by pure instinct I am still alive. Instinct that have been keeping me alive for over three weeks now, and longer than any of my 'allies' known as Careers.

The starts to slow down a bit, he is losing his patience, and all I need is one misplaced slice and I could take him down from there. My wish was answered when he tried to take a swing at my neck. Dodging downwards, I then swept him with my leg, making him fall down to the floor. I got on top of him, and held him out knife point. He didn't even try to struggle.

"Giving up? Good. Stay still, this will hurt you a lot more than it will hurt me." I smirked. But wait, why is he looking smug? I am about to murder him, and yet he look like _he_ is the one that is going to win. Like hell that would happen, I raised my knife high, about to stab him repeatedly, when something burning and liquid got on my eye.

Damn it, he SPIT on me!

He grabbed the knife from me and stabbed me. Thankfully, it wasn't a fatal wound but that doesn't mean that it didn't hurt. For the love of God it is agonizing.

Regaining my eyesight, I found myself on the floor, with the boy's trident pointed at me.

"You were saying?" Damn it, I am going to be killed by a District 10 kid? One of the more weakest District in these Games? That will just bring shame towards not only the Career District, but by my family and trainers there as well.

Can't say I didn't deserve it though, but I promised to return home, and this guy, who is like what, fifteen, should be the one dying in my place.

"Well, it was nice knowing you, but there could only be one Victor, and that my friend, is the guy on top of you." He exclaimed, aiming the trident towards me, mostly likely holding in the suspense for the Capitol. I need to get out of here, but how...

Maybe someone from above finally stopped pitying me and gave me an idea.

Before the sharp edges of the trident pierced my heart, I kicked him in his loins. The look on his face was almost hilarious, as I grabbed the trident and thrust it into his stomach. A fatal hit.

The cannon fired.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Victor of the 29th Hunger Games, Ruby Syed!"

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**My first time writing a fight scene. Excuse it, I know it is crude but I am planning in working on that aspect of writing. Anyways, this is easily the longest chapter so far, but once we reach the actual Games, it will be long enough to have multiple people's POV.**

**Thank you for reading. Also, for those interested, submissions are still wanted. Remember first come, first serve. Don't want to be left out!**

**And lastly, keep in mind my updating time is between 1-2 weeks. I doubt it will be earlier than that, but if it is later than two weeks, either something happened to me, or I would've warned you in whatever previous chapter is was.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading. DTPhenom out.**


	4. Gamemaker Get Together

1st POV -Tyler Powell- Hunger Games Commentator- Male- Age of 64

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And thus, I am stuck in a room full of over-glorified behind the screen killers. I am not even supposed to be here! I am a commentator, not a Gamemaker. I have been in the business of commentating on the Hunger Games ever since it was made, and never, not even once, have I, or the other past interviewers, have been ordered to come this supposedly mandatory last meeting.

I looked over to the Head Gamemaker, Ryun Flickerman, who is currently signing some papers while occasionally telling the Deputy Gamemaker, Wren Rimsky, something as a form of encouragement, who just moaned as he continue to lay his head on the table. I heard he was frequently drinking in meetings, so he must be experiencing some withdrawal since President Asarco banned it for this particular one.

The interviewer, Berretta Ferro, was busy looking at the clock and occasionally looking a few times at Ryun. Former actress, this is her third years as interviewer, and already she gained huge Capitol attention due to not only appearing in a hit movie, but also to her vocal skills. She can bring out a tributes personality, and helped the shy ones come out from their shells. It is an understatement that she just fit for this job.

The other Gamemakers were doing different things to pass the time until the meeting start, reading books, have small chats with each other, sleep, or just stare at the clock hoping this would just be over with.

When the clock hand moved to the third hour, Ryun stood up, and all other activities came into a brief halt. He seems to be counting each one of us, then sighed as then turned to speak.

"Well, it is that special time of the year again. For thirty years, we have been managing the Games, each one getting better and better. This year, I have a feeling that this will be one to remember for ages."

We broke out into celebratory nods and cheers, as I just acknowledged what he said. I have seen all the Victors, from the First Hunger Games, to the Quarter Quell, to the recent victory of a District 1 girl and all the others in between. I think it will be quite a challenge to top all of that with just one Game.

But then again, when you have been commentating on this type of entertainment since your first big break in your Careers, you tend to expect the unexpected.

"But, like last year, and every year before, we have to make sure we work behind the scenes to put everything in order. This will be the last meeting before construction of the arena begins. So, without further ado, allow me to present this year's..."

He was interrupted by the doors sliding open to reveal a young woman with teal hair stopping to a halt as she panted for air. I then remembered it was that Climate Control Gamemaker, the one who constantly gets into arguments with Wren last year about which batch of tributes to send the stampede horde into. The remaining three Careers, or the two tributes of District 10. It was really one of the most pointless debate I ever heard of.

Ryun glared at the woman while Wren was trying to hold back a laugh.

"You are late." Ryun sighed.

"I noticed." She rolled her eyes as she put down her purse and sat down at one of the empty seat. The Head Gamemaker put his hand on his forehead and started pacing around the room. Most likely he is trying to calm himself down since an absent woman ruined his 'spectacular' presentation. Most people would have yelled, scream in rage, or most things along those lines, but thankfully, Ryun is not like those people, which makes is easier on me to be able to work with.

"I could have you executed, or at least fired, Ms. Cray. " Ryun stated, as he went back to his spot near the hologram table.

"Oh please Ryun, you, fire someone? Sorry kid, but you don't really have the heart to do so." Wren snorted, as some of the Gamemakers nodded their heads in agreement.

"WREN. TO THE CORNER. NOW!" Ryun roared, as which then, the green haired Gamemaker and Berretta had to hold their sides from laughter, with pretty much most of the other Gamemakers. I admit I had to hold back a laugh as well as the man sulked into what seems like his designated corner.

"Does this happen often? Because if it do, I will totally come here each meeting." Berretta asked, as Ryun just groaned.

"Now that all the humor is gone, we can _finally_ start this presentation..." He pressed a button on the panel and a large hologram of the arena appeared in the center of the table. I am impressed with the model, to be honest, there is enough spot for a clear view of combat, a good amount of food supply so we won't get what the Capitol calls un-climatic deaths, and a decent amount of loot at the Capitol for the tributes to kill each other for. But, then again, all arenas are supposed to be like this, so what makes this arena special?

"Looks pretty average, aside from the climate, how could this be any different to some of the other arenas? And I know you are not going to put some blizzard for the last disaster are you." One of the more mature and reasonable Gamemaker called out.

"Well I am glad you asked! You see, instead of the usually end of Games disaster, we will be doing something due to the scarce of food during the time it will commence." Ryun smiled as he then pressed another button. Changing the hologram into a model of the front of the Cornucopia.

"So, near the end, we will be having, a fea..."

Ryun was interrupted midway when he felt something on his leg. Something white and furry.

A cat.

The females and some of the men in the room awed at the cute animal, as Ryun tried to move slowly away from it, his eyes widened in shock as the cat came closer and rubbed his back on him. I smiled as the Head frantically tried to get it away from him as the ball of fluff just continued to snuggle next to him. Wren, at this point not facing his corner, burst out laughing as Berretta got up and took the cat away from him with ease and went back to her chair with it. Almost everyone came to her to get a better look at the kitty, all wanting to pet it, snuggle it, or claiming it as their own.

Ryun sobbed in defeat.

Wren had trouble breathing in the side of the room.

The cat just went asleep in my lap.

This is certainly one of the more... unique experienced in my entire career.

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**And... cut! It's a wrap folks!**

**Just to let everyone know, NEXT CHAPTER IS THE FINAL ONE BEFORE PRE GAMES ACTIVITIES STARTS. LAST CHANCE TO ENTER A TRIBUTE IN!**

**So this chapter was a light humor since what is a better way to start a meeting by making a total mess out of it? And yes, I know it have been more than two weeks, I had life and writers block to worry about so sorry about that, hopefully the next one will go a lot more smoother.**

**I feel like I am forgetting something... oh right.**

**Remember kids, once the next chapter is complete, I will explain the sponsoring system.**

**Anyways, Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!**


	5. The President and the Victor

3rd POV- With President Cheren- Male- Age of 68

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President Cheren. The 4th President of Panem, a truly accomplished man. Stopping the Dark Ages, starting the Hunger Games, and crushing down any forms of rebellion left in the Districts, many could say was the best one since President Taylor, the one who rose Panem from the dust. Even though the President is far past his prime, he can still strike fear in many hearts. Very little could surprise him. That is why when the messenger sent word about the lack of students attending the Career Training Facilities, it was something he haven't expected.

You see, President Cheren allowed Careers to continue for one thing: Entertainment. There is nothing really fun watching untrained tweens and teenagers running out, dying off by hunger or the occasional mutts. Of course there was also District 2, who's children usually train in combat to supply for the nation's military force, but that was around every three Games or so. So that is when he allowed District 1 and 2 permission to train tributes, also with 4 a couple years later, due to their wealth. The three most prominent Districts, where winning the Hunger Games to them is an honor, while the other Districts fear the Games. Well there is another reason to keep the Careers, to promote the Districts in which they are from to loyalty for the Capitol. Such genius idea made him different and more memorable than his predecessors.

So when the masqueraded woman told him about lack of students in District 1 and 4, it was something to worry about.

"Any known reasons why?" The President asked calmly, drinking some tea from his mug.

His messenger shook her head.

"Not that we know of sir. But we have approximate guesses." The woman stated as she handed him over some graphs on a recent poll done in each of the District's school.

The President scanned the papers briefly, mainly showing the average of kids, ages from 12-18, thoughts on the Games. While it is to be expected that the outer Districts thoughts on the Games was pretty much negative, what really got the President's attention was on District 4. Only 1/25 of the students trained for the Games, compared to District 1 where 1/12 trained and in District 2 where more than half of the children trained in some way for the Games or for the militia.

"Interesting... this is bound to cause problems later on. Melinda, you said that the advisors had some possible answers. Do you have them with you?" President Cheren asked. Melinda nodded as she reached into her pocket to pull out a piece of paper.

"This is just the start of the debate, sir. These are just only the advisors thoughts on the situation and some possible answers before research begins." Melinda explained as she gave the paper to the President.

He scanned the notes briefly, mainly what most of the advisors put down are basically some thoughts, as alliance instability and risks. However, there was one note that caught his attention.

Maybe the Games needs something new to help motivate the kids into training.

"I think we may just have an answer... However this calls for further research. Tell the advisors to ask the trainers in District 1, 2, and 4 what they think about the Games, and what should be improved. Do so immediately." The President ordered. Melinda nodded as she walked out of the room, leaving a strong perfume scent in the office. Cheren sighed as he opened the A/C to let some fresh air in.

These last five years was indeed extremely busy and tiring. The Quarter Quell, the sudden rise in the population for the Districts, and now, that Gamemaker and his immature partner is working on some type of twist that he don't even know about. And now, this happens. He have a strange feeling this is not the only form of trouble he will have this year, and he is certain he don't want to deal with it any time soon.

_I am getting too old for this, I need a long nap..._

* * *

1st POV- Veronica Smith- Victor of the 5th Hunger Games- Female- District 2- Age of 41

* * *

One of these days, I am going to kill them. Slowly. Painfully. Hear them scream, cry, yell. If only the President and the gluttonous mayor didn't have their eyes on them.

They dyed my undergarments _pink_!

I don't know how, or why does that brunette girl manages to actually surpass most of my top picks. It agitates me that some, goofy, irresponsible, annoying girl can garner enough attention to make the other Head Trainers make her 'Victor in the making'.

And what more? The girl, with that loud mouthed blonde brat, and that kid in the boys section as her companions, won the spot.

I may be a little to angered, but who wouldn't be when their underwear is the girlish, slutty color of bright, neon pink. I should have more control, because like hell would I go for some more therapeutic meetings to 'calm my senses'. It is just one girl, no one would mind, I can just hide the body. I should have done it before this happened.

Well, the brunette is going to the Games. I heard about her District partner, in the men section of the Training Facilities, is the younger brother of a recent Victor. Can't say I am surprised, that boy was always the one most of the little brats look up to, and heard he won on a two on one for the spot. Hopefully, the brunette won't ruin his image. The boy is not as bloodthirsty, apparently. Shame, both his father, and his brother, were basically one-siding the entire arena. I remember those Games, it was such a pleasure to watch.

Anyways, the girl is currently being hugged by the blonde girl. Shayla? Shalee? Doesn't matter what her name is. The other Head Trainer, Lorelai, the Victor of the 1st Quarter Quell and the mayor's first daughter comes up the front of the ring and tells the brunette what an honor it is to be chosen for the Games. She tunes her off as she smiled around the room, receiving glares and looks of jealously all around. To think, a girl who skips training nearly every other day, gets chosen to volunteer for the honor and sacrifice of District 2.

I decided to not go on the stage. I never do since Lorelai won her Games, I find it no point celebrating some either weak minded, arrogant, or insane girl on the road to the Hunger Games. It not like she could stand a chance.

No one here never stood a chance.

Not even my son did.

I rubbed my temple as I headed out the combat hall and into the mixed gender weapon practice station. This area is closed for this month and the next due to the final exams, tournaments, and the Hunger Games that will be coming up soon. Grabbing some knives, I head over to the target zone and began rapidly throwing knives. I find this very mind soothing, just watching the knives hit the vital areas at pinpoint accuracy makes me feel more calm. More natural. It have been years since I stopped dreaming or hallucinating my kills. Instead of every time I throw a knife I imagine me killing that little girl from District 6, or bringing down the strong brute from 4, I imagine success, the joy of just letting go.

That brings my thoughts up into what this year's tributes are: A loud mouthed brat who don't have the decency to show up most of the time and a heir of District 2 most prominent Victor family who doesn't have the lust for combat as what should be expected. But then again, the unexpected is a vital key point in winning, and I don't know what District 1 may bring, or what District 4 might dish up, but I feel pretty certain that we might produce our ninth Victor.

I noticed that the girls are each getting out of the combat hall, most with disappointed looks on their faces while some looks a bit, relieved. I saw the brunette, chatting with the blonde girl, as they made their way to the exit. She doesn't look to take the fact that in two weeks she might be a rotting corpse very mindly. She doesn't look arrogant either, more like indifference. Interesting, the whole thing is a joke to her? Or is it that she doesn't care.

It not likes it matters much anyways, I will find out more about her when I have go in the train with her.

Whatever the reason, I can tell this is not your typical girl.

* * *

**I feel like I did decent here. Doing two POV instead of one. As an honorary for the final chapter before the reaping.**

**Anyways, SYOT SUBMITTING IS FINISHED. Yep, that is right, over, done, fin. So, if you are kind enough to lend me your opinion, please do, I need some help deciding things.**

**I don't want to make a reaping for each District. So I will make either three chapters with four POV, or four chapters with three POV. Three POV will help develop more insight on the characters, but the four POV will help progress the story. Any comments regarding this will be appreciated.**

**So, in this chapter, I give you a small introductory to President Cheren, and Veronica Smith, the Victor of the 5th Hunger Games, and one of District 2 two female Victors. More character development will be given in later chapters, but, now we wait for the Reapings!**

**And one more thing, now that I have finally gotten all the tributes. Let me point out that the basics of the sponsor system and more in graph details will be on my profile.**

**Anyways, get ready for the Reaping, dress nice, and may the odds be ever in your favor! Expect a chapter in a week or two. **


	6. What are the Odds?

1st POV- Elemér Kelemen- District 5 Male Tribute- Age of 15.

* * *

It is one of those days again.

When you just don't want to get out of bed, sleep the day through. After a long and tiring time yesterday, extra hours working behind the shop, you just need a long break. What makes it even worse is that something big is happening the day after. Something you don't want.

I stood over groggily past my bed, as I stared at the clock on my dresser. 9:00. Enough time to get ready and fix the shop for the busy day tomorrow. Going down the stairs, I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A couple of juices, some frozen meats, a couple fruits and vegetable, and some milk. Not much really to choose from, but I guess it is better than most of the kids in District 5. I shouldn't really complain, after all, considering this year the odds are in my favor.

Business have been doing well this year, so there is really no need to take tesserae. The last time I had to take one was, about two years ago, when I was thirteen. Even though I only signed up for one bag, I was still frightened at the Reaping. Terrified to be precise. Though, when I think about it, what exactly is there to fear? This year, my name is in the Reaping bowl only four times, out nearly two thousand other boys. Give or take a couple hundreds.

I took out a bowl of oranges and poured some milk in a cup. Eating a slice of orange, I began to think what happened if I were to be Reaped. I am not fit, the sharp object I ever hold was a kitchen knife, and even then I fear for cutting my fingers with it. Add in the fact that I know almost nothing about surviving in the wilderness, consider District 5 is an urban place with very little vegetation. I say I will not make it that far though. And that is all without including what the other tributes may be like.

I should not be too worried about this subject, besides, the odds are in my favor. I know a lot of other kids say that, so it wouldn't hurt to think that too.

After cleaning up the dishes, I took out a bowl of cereal and poured milk into it. I need to wake up my little brother, even though today does not really concern him. He is not close to Reaping age, being only nine. But it is mandatory by law. Walking up the stairs, I opened the door to his room, to find there is no one there but a note. Picking it up, I read the contents of it.

Estienne and I are visiting the mayor this morning. We will be at the Reaping in time.

It took me a while to remember that my father had an appointment this morning. From I can remember, it will have an impact on the shipment of the antiques sold in our pawn shop we run in the District. Lately, there have been a decrease in items, so my father is negotiating with the mayor for some imports from other Districts and the Capitol. While we buy and sell items at a good rate and value, not everyone in District 5 have the merchandise or money to bring to us. Thankfully, it is not bad enough for me to take tesserae, so it is still stable.

Speaking of tesserae, I should dress up nicely for the Reaping. It is mandatory, and those who isn't dressed up at least moderately decent will be heavily fined. Most family's are already in financial ruins, so if they were fined, it will result in bankruptcy and possibly eviction.

I decided to dress up in a long sleeved white shirt with some black pants and shoes, and headed out the door. Living in the more wealthy part of District 5, I live near the central square, so it won't be a long walk to reach their, twenty minutes at most. Normally the streets will be filled with people walking around doing their business and cars zooming around, all in a peaceful setting. But today the atmosphere is different, I see children holding on tight to their parents in search of comfort, as I see some lone teens looking on frightfully, with their heads low walking to the center. It is sort of a morbid environment, but I paid it no mind.

The odds are in my favor anyways.

Finally reaching the square, I waited in the short line to the sign up tables. If I were to come later, I would be long and daunting, but with the privilege of living in the well-to-do section, it is a short stop to a pricked finger and presenting your information to strangers. Could be worse though.

After signing up, I headed to the fifteen year old section and looked around. The square is still slightly empty, with the exception of the Capitol camera crew on the stands preparing to start, and a hundred or so teens filling the square. Soon it will be packed, so I headed to the ropes, far from the main walkway dividing the boys from the girls, and dozed off.

When I got off from daydreaming, I already see the escort, a middle aged, grotesque woman with pale blue tint of the skin, and purple curly hair. She is talking on how an honor it is to be hear, and best wishes to the impending tributes. That is when the mayor showed up to take the mike. A tall, burly man with grey hair and a suit on. I looked around for my father and brother. I don't see them, but I know they are most like with the other parents and single adults. I can always find them when the Reaping is over.

They Mayor read of the Treaty of Treason and the name of our sole Victor, Xavier Richardson. I don't remember much about his Games, considering it was eight years ago. But there was one thing I remembered about him. His use of poisons, how he managed to trick his ally from District 8 into drinking the contaminated water. Leaving her coughing up blood and limping on the jungle floor. Other than that, my mind turn a blank.

"Now, I have a very special video to show you all. Made from the glorious Capitol!" The escort exclaimed. Glorious? I managed to hold back a half hearted laugh, as the video starts. I used to pay attention to it, but this year, it have gotten old to me. Just some outdated history and what an honor it will be to participate in the Games. It may work in the Career Districts, but here, everyone in one way or another fear the Games. Afraid, terrified, disgusted. Many words to pronounce how wrong it is. But who will fight back anyways?

I was pulled from my thoughts when the escort moved to the girl's bowl and dug a hand in. I couldn't really see that clearly from where I am standing, but I know she picked on from the top. Opening it, she read the girl's name out loud.

"Dina Foster!" She said over the microphone. I looked over to the girl's end, to try to see a glimpse of the girl.

The crowd parted to reveal a girl, redhead, hair down and wavy, also really small, coming from the seventeen year old section. The girl was shocked, speechless, as she slowly made her way into the stage. The escort seems to be glad that the girl was not a sniveling wreck. But, I noticed something is off, she walked crookedly, and when she stand, she slightly bend over. Back problems I guessed. It seems not much people notice.

I feel sorry for her, she might not even survive long. But then again, that is to be expected for our District. Cannon fodders, perhaps. But, we have a Victor, albeit one, but that is enough to prove he have a chance.

The escort moved to the boys bowl and dug a hand in. This time, I start to feel nervous, sure the odds are well in my favor, but it still scares me. If my name were to be picked. I didn't take tesserae this year, so that is by far a good advantage. The odds of me being picked are low, very small, miniscule. I started to relax a bit as the escort read the name out loud.

"Elemér Kelemen"

See? Another year safe. What was there to worry about?

It hit me. Like a hovercraft just fell on top of my head. That name wasn't some poor kid, it was me.

A ton of emotions are going through my head, fear, pain, the shock of all this, and overall, terrified. I have not once, ever felt as scared as I am now. Even when I was twelve for my first Reaping I wasn't as scared. I am going to die, I am not strong, I am not brave, and I don't know a thing about survival. I am just some average bookworm merchant kid. I might not even pass the Bloodbath. What about my dad? Or my little brother? How will they cope for when I am gone? It.. can't be right.

Someone nudged me and I am pulled from my thoughts. I tried to keep a neutral face as I walk up to the stage. Sponsors, if I even get one, might focus on me more if I am not terrified or crying. As I got on the stage, I had a better view of the square. I saw a glimpse of my father comforting my little brother, as he looked on confused. He is too innocent to truly know what the Games are.

"And there we have it, District 5's tributes! Let's give a round of applause." The escort cheered as the crowd did a weak form of clapping. I looked at the mayor, but he just glanced at me sympathetically. It would make sense, since he just finished conducting business with my father.

"Ok, now you too shake hands, for an amazing Games to come." The escort said to us. It was then I actually paid attention to my District partner. She looks nervous, but immediately sobered up when she then noticed me. I raised my hand up and she hesitantly shook it/ I don't blame her, you can't always trust your District partner, but maybe we can get to know each other.

After all, I will need all the help I could get, and maybe have a friend before I am dead.

* * *

1st POV- Ainsley Brown- District 3 Female Tribute- Age of 15.

* * *

I resisted the urge to moan as I saw what time the clock said in my room. Six thirty in the freaking morning. Who the hell wakes up at this time!? I am not one of those factory workers, and it is the summer time as well. I should go back to sleep, yeah, that is what I am going to do. I am tired.

...

A splash of water jolted me awake.

I screeched as I jumped out of bed, soaking wet as my older brother laughed soundly. He already have a grey polo shirt on with some jeans and shoes.

" What the hell is wrong with you!? I could get hypothermia or something!" I yelled loudly at him, while he just smiled a big grin.

"You are late, again, you sleep too much and missed breakfast." He said, as he put the bucket down on the floor.

"And you didn't bother to wake me up because?" I asked, as his face fell.

"The hell am I? A maid? You have an alarm clock, you should have used it." He accused. I roll my eyes as I head for the bathroom. The thing is I _did _set it, except I underestimated my waking time. And thus, I thought I could spend a few more minutes sleeping. Now, it is ten o' clock. I need to take a bath, and then get ready for the day.

Oh wait, today is Reaping day isn't it? Guess that explains why my older brother, Jerral, is actually looking decent for once. And the fact Reaping takes place in an hour means that I won't even have time to clean myself. Shouldn't have spend so much time last night hanging out near the back of a factory than actually sleep. My own damn fault, perhaps.

Brushing my teeth, and combing my hair, I headed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I see my older eighteen year old sister Raven, and my two younger siblings Jackson and Henrietta, both thirteen years old. All dressed up in our formal outfits, as I am still in my pajamas.

"Hey, Ainsley get to sleep in, why can't I?" Jackson complained, as Raven sighed and look displeased with me. Not my fault they didn't wake me up. I got out a bowl of some corn flakes, some milk, and began eating hastily. Raven told the younger siblings to go upstairs and let Jerral know that we are about to go.

"Oh come on Raven, you are just going to leave me here, alone?_" _I whined sarcastically. She just smiled and also went upstairs.

Where is the justice?

After finishing my bowl, I ran upstairs, and opened my closet to see if there are any suitable clothes I can wear. I easily picked a blue blouse with a red skirt and dress shoes, add a dab of makeup, and checked myself in the mirror. I evaluate myself, my chestnut hair combed down on my right shoulder, my dress matching well enough with my light green eyes, and while I may not be the bustiest or the roundest, I do have a bit of beauty and kink in me. At least enough to make myself look presentable.

"Hey! We are going, if you don't come down now, we are leaving you here!" Jerral yelled out from my door, shocking me for a bit. I growled as I went out of my room, and joined with my other siblings. My dad is busy preparing for the Reaping, since he is the Mayor of District 3 and all. Not that it really matters much to me. Sure we are better off than most people in the District, aside from the only two Victors and their families of course, but I never really paid much attention. And then there is Terra, who is twenty and already moved out of the house. It is mandatory to visit the Reaping, unless if you are so ill you could just be pronounced dead, so I might get to see her again.

After walking out of our house, we did a short walk to the town square and into the already forming sign in line. I took a glance at my younger siblings to see how they are faring off. Jackson won't dare to show his fear or nervousness, so he just tried to play it off cool and calm. From the looks of it, he is failing, as I can see his shaking body. Henrietta is doing far worse, and I wish I can tell her it will be alright, but I can't get close to her, she is in another line, and soon sent off into another section. The odds of her getting pick are tiny, she only have two slips. Same for Jackson as well.

We never needed to take any tesserae. We are the mayor's children, and I don't remember a time when we are left starving. Not even before my mother passed away either. She didn't die off some large freak accident, just dying at birth, pushing out Jackson and Henrietta, I was four at the time, so I doubt I remembered anything. Terra told me that my dad caught my mother cheating on one of the managers of a car production chain. He didn't divorce her even through that though, and they even got pregnant again. At least, that what I heard.

I must have been dozing off, cause now I am at the sign up table. I gave my name, date of birth, and gender- can't he, she, or whoever that person is tell that I am in no way a dude? I feel insulted- to the person and reached my hand forward. I felt a small jolt on my finger, as I pressed down on the paper. The Peacekeeper told me to move along, and I gladly complied, going to the seventeen year old section.

It looks like we made it on time, since the escort is already up on the stage. He is a short guy with pink hair and peachy skin. Wearing blue jacket and pants, I have to say this is the most normal escort I seen so far, well from my time watching the stuff before the Hunger Games. The center clock turned 11:00, and he got up to the stage.

"Greetings, citizens of District 3, I am your escort this year, and I will be reaping two, brave and courageous young man and woman to bring honor and glory in the Hunger Games!" He exclaimed to the crowd. I can clearly see that this is his first year, as he is all too giddy about this.

"Now, before we begin, I have a very special video to show you all. A work of art from President Cheren!" He said, as the video started on the screen. I have seen this too many times, it is lame and uninteresting anyways. I looked across the crowd to see if I could find one of my siblings. The first one I see is Jerral, he is whispering to one of the guys near him about something, not even recognizing the video. Looking toward Jackson, I see him drawling, looking uninterested in watching some thirty year old documentary, neither Henrietta, despite her nervousness, seems caring.

Before I could locate Raven, the video is over and my father went up into the stage. He read off the Treaty of Treason and the names of our two Victors, Dermon Yest- Victor of the 3rd Hunger Games, and Nixi Watts- Victor of the 19th Hunger Games. I don't even know how Dermon won, and Nixi's Games was a blur to me. I was like, six years old at the time. I didn't even know what the Hunger Games was, except that people said it was bad. Dermon is an aged man, tall. bearded, and is one of District 3's geniuses from what I heard. Nixi is the mother of two children, a teenage girl who I sometime hang around school with, and a toddler.

That reminds me, I haven't seen my friends Jason and Marcia in a while. Probably the only people I care about aside from my family. They are in the crowd somewhere, but it is too late to look for them. I was pulled from my thoughts when the escort started moving towards the microphone.

"Now, time for the best time of the day! Picking the tributes to represent District 3!" He exclaimed. To be honest I am not really nervous, the odds of me getting picked are like the chances of winning some 21st Century game called The Lottery. His hand moved on top of the girl's bowl and picked a card. Heading to the mike, he read the name out.

"Raven Brown."

I nearly stumbled over.

My older sister is Reaped.

I looked to where everyone is staring, I see my sister, confused, very confused. Reasonable, she have an ear birth defect, usually having to go the sound therapy every month or so to help her not to become deaf. I noticed she suddenly stiffened, meaning she finally figured out what happened. Even I couldn't believe, my sister, is going to be gone. She doesn't stand a chance in the Games, and I don't want to stand around doing nothing. I refuse to let that happen.

"I volunteer!" I yelled out, as I ran past the other kids and went to Raven.

"Ainsley, you don't have to do this. You are young!" She told me as I started walking to the stage, I looked at her, and then forlornly sighed.

"Sister, you have so much, too much to live for, you have a boyfriend, and you are one of the top students in the District. You deserve to live better than I do." I whispered to her, as I walked to the stage without looking back.

"Ah, lovely, a Volunteer! Isn't this amazing folks?" The escort cheered through the microphone. Yeah, sure, amazing. I might not even come back alive, I might have my head sawed off, or maybe being eaten by some wild beast. I can absolutely see the excitement in this.

"What is your name sweetheart?" The guy asked.

"Ainsley." I answered hesitantly. "Ainsley Brown."

"Oh! So that is your sister?" He asked again. I nodded slightly as I looked at my father. He have an empty face, as his eyes hold some sort of fear in them. He already lost his wife, my mother, and now is he going to lose one of his children? I may be one of the more rowdier members of the family, but he still cares for us. I gave a small smile to my father as I ignored the escort going to the boy's bowl. I looked over to the Victors, now my mentors. Dermon is looking at me with calculating eyes, with no noticeable expression on his face as Nixi just smiled genuinely at me.

"Austin Factor." The escort called out.

I got out of my thoughts as I heard some of the more... troubled teens laughing. A boy froze, shocked as the crowd parted. He then stared at someone in the girl's section, before a Peacekeeper nudged him to move along. The escort frowned at someone not more strong, or handsome. Seriously, what did he expect coming from a District who is only known for their intelligence, not their strengths or looks. That is why we only have two Victors.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here is District 3's tributes for the 30th Hunger Games! Now, then why don't you two shake hands for the Games to come." He asked us. The boy looked at me, as if considering if I am a friend or an enemy. I know that he is going to die if I want to come back home, but I decided to give him a lasting friend before he dies. It doesn't seem he have a lot of friends considering the reaction he got when he was reaped.

I smiled at him and shook his hands. As we are being led to the Justice Building.

I then started to think what will happen now that I am going to the Hunger Games. I am sure my performance will land me a good amount of sponsors to help me out through the Games. And hopefully my mentors can give me some amazing advice on how to stay alive during these Games. I think I might have a chance, but their is this sinking feeling. A feeling of doubt, that just can't leave me.

Whatever the case, this is sure to be an interesting experience for me, and possibly my last.

* * *

1st POV- Ivar Lothbrok- District 4 Male Tribute- Age of 18.

* * *

I held the guy at knifepoint, as he tried to squirm from my grasp, but to no avail.

"Dead." The proctor pronounced. I dropped him on the floor and gave my knife back to the trainer. It is Reaping day, and we are ordered for some sparring to decide who will volunteer this year. Grading us by our skill and performance, I know that I will be the one chosen. I am the one barely anyone can defeat and the trainers would love to have a strong tribute to represent District 4.

Not that I care about all that fame and glory crap. I already live a decent life with decent wealth, and I have no use for popularity.

What I want, is to claim the lives of the ones who wronged me.

After wiping my face with a towel, I sat back down on the mat near the large guy near Storn, who sneaked in some chocolate bars for us to indulge on. He is one of the few friends I actually have in the Training Center, and he is almost as strong as me. I eye the trainers, jotting down notes and discussing with the Head Trainers, otherwise known as the Victors, about some topics. I am pretty sure they are talking about my victories over the spars, and how I outclass most of these weaklings.

Wally, one of the Victors, came up to the center of the fighting area.

"Ok, all of you showed skill, performance, and capability. As of now we will announce the volunteers this year." He announced, as almost everyone in the room tensed up, hanging into the Victor's words.

"For the girls, since most of you still need improvement, we decided that you will volunteer at your own risk. Think wisely, as District 2 and even District 1 have strong tributes, waiting eagerly for the Games." He said to the girls. Most had a contemplating look on their faces, while Alva, my only friend that is a girl in this place, looked insulted. That the trainer didn't call her to volunteer. I may be strong, but only a fool will tell Alva that she is still pretty weak. Wally is a Victor, and Ava knows she can't compete with one of them.

Said Victor now turned over to the boys, as nearly everyone around me wait in anticipation.

"You all showed progress and skill that will help you survive the Hunger Games if you were to be reaped. However, this year's volunteer will be..." Wally paused for dramatic effect.

All the boys stiffened up. some with a hungry look on their face, bloodlust. Others are looking around nervous, and other are just waiting in agony.

And we waited.

For quite a while now...

"Get on with it shrimp! Or I will shove this trident up your ass!" Zack, another Victor, bellowed at Wally, waving around a silver trident around to prove his point. Aquila, a recent Victor of the 28th Hunger Games, tried to calm him down, but without progress. Wally, who for the most part ignored them as he satisfy himself with the looks of anticipation and torture from my other classmate.

_Crazy, psychotic Victors _I muttered to myself.

"Ivar Lothbrok, you will be representing District 4 for the 30th Hunger Games!" Wally cheered, as most of the people around me either groaned loudly, or glared at me. They could try to burn my face off with their eyes for all I care. I have been training all my life for this, and I have the superior skills to back it up as well. Storn patted me on the back as I let out a grin of anticipation.

"Ok, now since that is over. Get to the dressing room and put on the clothes you brought. Even though you are not going to the Games, make yourself presentable. We don't want to be portrayed as some barbarians as the Capitol thought of us to be." One of the trainers orders.

As everyone got into their assigned rooms to change. I went into the Men Changing Room E and went to my locker. Ignoring the glare one particular kid was sending me. Like, how old was he, fourteen, fifteen? I dressed up in a green shirt, long sleeve, with blue pants, and black shoes, and quickly headed out the room. It would be embarrassing if I left the room in fear, but I left it more of annoyance. I don't care much about the other students, only from what little friends I have, in which I care for in this place. Back home, I have my parents waiting for me as well. Most likely getting prepared for the Reaping.

Walking down the halls of the Training Centre, I noticed a particular weasel. Otherwise known as Anselm, the oldest, and shortest one in the group. He is already dressed up, and talking to some dude in his ear. He was always the one who likes to hear secrets, and one who keeps up with the latest news around the District. He is basically the go to guy if you want some juicy gossip or news.

While he is far from the strongest in the Training Center, the only thing keeping him in the advanced group is his knowledge of both survival skills, and his gift in throwing spears and tridents. I myself like to use a spear in combat, but throwing it is a whole field for me I don't dwell on. Something I should practice on, but I am already skilled in most areas, and long range isn't my style of fighting.

Walking out of the Center, I walked down the street, heading for the District Square. I began to think of the previous Victors, and how they managed to win. I had to watch each four of their Games, and some other ones where District 4 was either in second, or third place. I remember how Mags, Victor of the 9th Hunger Games. It was a time before the Careers were formed, and I remember how she stayed away from most of the other tributes. Of course, she killed one in the Bloodbath, another when some District 7 girl tried to kill her while sleeping, and that District 1 boy in the end.

Then there was Zack, Victor of the 15th Hunger Games, overpowering tributes with his brute force and the end of a trident. The most vivid memory I had of him is when he pinned down some kid from District 8 in the water like catching fish, and the water around the body red with blood. He won his Games with very little injuries, and made District 4 a strong competitor in the Games.

I remember Wally's Games clearly, as I was young and started learning about the Games at that time. It was the year after the Careers was formed, the 21st Hunger Games. I remember the traps he said up for the wandering tributes, how viciously the corpses was either mutilated, headless, or even burned. Winning his Games by stabbing his District partner in the back, coming home victorious. I remember seeing him on his Victory Tour in our District, how he still play and joke around like nothing happen.

And then the recent Victor, Aquila. I remember her Games, but it was not as one would call, 'entertaining'. But I remember when she gouge the eyes out of the strong brute from District 2, and then stabbing the knife through his brains. That was the highlight of the Games, unsurprisingly, and came back a Victor.

Thinking of how all of them won their Games, I begin to think how I would win mine. It will be able to fight someone strong, since the other weaklings in the Training Center can't put up a decent fight. And there is another thing I could achieve. I could kill them. I remember now, why I am training for the Games. So I can claim what my brother couldn't, and come back a Victor, like Mags, and Wally.

I finally came to the sign up table, being early, the line was very short and the square was mostly barren, not including the Capitol people of course. Giving my name and my blood to the Peacekeeper, I got up to the front of the stage and went to the eighteen year old section. I already see Alva there, thinking thoughtfully and mumbling to herself. I know that she is thinking about Volunteering or not, and hopefully she will make the right decision of waiting till next year. She doesn't know about my plan, but she knows I am supposed to Volunteer, and that I will regret killing her. But then again, she would make a great ally.

I looked around to see if I can spot my parents. The square is still pretty empty and I am able to spot them easily. I do not pay too much attention to them though, I would have to speak with them inside the Justice Building anyways. Maybe if Petyr is alive, he would have been glad his brother would be going into the Games. Being killed off by the District 2, whom he thought he trusted. His head rolling off, and the air around my cold as we watched in the Training Center. The bastard won that Games, and I even remember him talking proudly about killing him during the interviews with that Capitol rookie Berretta Ferro. It was then that I decided to truly train for the Games, sure my dad persuaded me to join when I was thirteen, but my brother's death pushed me into training harder so I can kill them. The Careers from 1 and 2. The ones who caused my brother's death.

I will enjoy their screams.

I realized I might have been focusing on my flashbacks for a while now, as the Capitol video was already playing on the screen, and the square packed with the minors of District 4. After it was over, the mayor, a blonde woman in a long green dress, stood up to the microphone and began listing our four Victors. Mags Salmonica, Zack Fremon, Wally Orpia, and Aquila Harvey. And after reading the Treaty of Treason, gave the microphone back to the escort. She had frilly dyed blue hair and had bright yellow eyes. I am almost positive that they are contacts, and begin to drone about how it was an honor to represent District 4 and all that.

"And now, here is the very special part of the day. Drawing out two, brave young man and woman, to compete in the 30th Hunger Games." She announced nonchalantly and walked over to the girl's bowl. Taking out a slip near the side of the bowl, she walked up back to the mike and read the name out.

"Samuela Suess." The escort called out.

After a brief moment, I heard sobbing, as the crowd departed a small, skinny girl was on the floor, crying her eyes out, as the Peacekeeper carried her to the stage. The escort frowned at the scene. Without looking at the girl, she asked if anyone wanted to volunteer. I couldn't see Alva now that the square if full, but no one seems to volunteer, which caused the girl to break down into more sobs. The escort looks immensely displeased, as she then went to the boy's bowl. She grabbed a slip and went back into the microphone.

"Cora-" The escort started, before I raised my hand up quickly.

"I volunteer!" I shouted loudly, as I ignored the looks of most of the other boys and began walking up the stage. The woman's look changed as she smiled at the fact that she have a volunteer.

"Ah yes, a brave man. Now that is the spirit, what is your name?" She asked me, as she pointed the microphone to me.

"Ivar Lothbrok." I said simply. Looking around the square to see the looks of my friends. Storn, was grinning at me, not having any food or drinks in his hand. Anselm was smiling at me, and looked content on not being in the Games, and Alva whom I finally found, looked neutral, but most likely thinking about training up till next year. I turned my head to my parents, my mother, I don't see her much since I go to Training and she works in the train yard, delivering fish to the Capitol, looks at first shocked but then smiled once she notice I am looking at her. My father, however, looks nervous, fearful, that I may die. He pushed me into training so I can most likely have something to do and have experience for when I get a job soon. He obviously didn't expect me to volunteer, but he should know ever since my brother died, that I will go into the Games. No exceptions.

"Excellent, two warriors to represent District 4. Now, come on you two, shake hands." The escort told us. I looked at my District partner, who for the most part have stopped crying but looks on terrified at me. I know that in the end I will have to kill her, but she will get tortured, killed, by the Careers. Maybe if I can convince her the Careers won't protect her and will only harm her, I can make her my ally, at least someone to trust since I refuse to join the Careers, and I know that they will be hunting me down. It looks like they will be two people short this year. And I will make sure they don't get to her.

I already lost my brother to them anyways,

Shaking her hand, and giving her a sober grin, since the cameras are no doubt focused on me, we are lead to the Justice Building, where we will say our final goodbyes before heading out to the Games.

After all, who else I could trust?

* * *

**Longest chapter I have ever written... easily tripling the length from Chapter 3, and will continue to be this length for God knows how long.**

**Anyways, this is the first chapter for the Reaping. Love it? Hate it? Have questions? Leave them in the reviews box, and I will gladly read them and reply to the questions with pleasure.**

**Anyways, let me clarify the sponsoring system. You see from the Reaping to the Bloodbath, each tribute will have two POV before the Games starts. In each chapter, their are three tribute POV. Like this one. Put in the reviews, since it will be easier for me to count, your favorite out of the three, and only choose one or the votes will be invalid. Each votes will be valid for the chapter till the next one comes out, so vote quickly! The sponsor points could save said tribute life...**

**And don't worry if your tribute doesn't have a POV in the Reaping, they will be shown in the Train Rides. Also, in my SYOT's I don't do the goodbye scenes, but usually let the tributes talk about the key parts in them so we can save time and effort.**

**RR, and have a happy back to school!**


	7. Honor of Heritage

1st POV- Vivian Carosso- District 2 Male Tribute- Age of 18.

* * *

I dodged the knife as it dug itself in the wall nearby.

Ah, yeah. What a great way to begin Reaping day. Fighting with my older brother, who happens to be a Victor, in a no-barred fight. And as in the words of my dad, if I die, I die.

Yes, an amazing morning filled with dodging swords, knives, and close combat fighting around the training center beginning as early as five thirty, in the morning. I haven't got the chance to look at a clock to find out what time it is. Or even when will I be able to eat for that matter. At five I was whisked away from my slumber, drove to the Training Center on the empty late night streets, and was ordered to begin fighting. To test me out to see if I was truly ready for the Games. Having only five hours of sleep, as I was busy doing late night training courses here, I am clearly at a disadvantage, and my brother wanted my head for a trophy. Literally.

I guess you could say we got an interesting family dynamics. I am the son of a Victor of the Hunger Games. The first one may I add. And my brother won the 27th Hunger Games. Nearly everyone in the District expects me to be the next Victor, as my older sister got killed in it four years ago in the arena, and my older cousin won the Games nine years ago. Being forced into first class training, never going into a regular school. Being taught that friends were meaningless to survival. You can say I have a pretty unorthodox life. Well that is the price of living perhaps, not that I know of any.

A spear flew near my head, as I ducked down and moved to the left. I needed to get closer to him. And my father won't stop this fight till either I die, or I either seriously injure my brother, or maybe put him in a death hold if I really put my head right. The problem is that _I can't get near him_! We were doing some intense close combat, fighting for our lives, till I managed to pull away. Now that I got away, after for who knows so long, I needed to get close. I can't tell the time by the sun either, since this place have no windows whatsoever, and my brother covered any exit points I may use. Not that I would run away, my father would kill me on the spot. Apparently it is surprisingly legal... who makes these laws anyways!?

We were placed in the weapon training area of the center, so any and all types of weapons are used in this fight. Bows, spears, swords, even shuriken, or throwing stars, you name it, all instruments of death and my brother is making good use of them.

After giving up being tactical, I dropped my sword and threw a spear on the floor at him. He dodged it like it was child's play and ran towards me, sword drawn out. He must have been waiting for this moment, for me to resort to long ranged weapons, to drop my sword so he can have an opening. I have no time to berate myself as I sword came crashing down at my head, quickly rolling sideways, I picked up a sword one the bloodied floor and blocked the next swing coming at me with it. We exchanged a few blows before I finally found an opening. I cut him through his shoulder, making him scream in shock and pain, I disarmed him and held the sword at his neck, drawing some blood out.

And lo, the battle was over.

After sheathing the sword back into the rack. My father came over to inspect me. I demeaning look in his eyes, as I stared back at him. Is there another test I have to do, or worse, will I have to fight him? I have multiple cuts and bruises all over me, which the pain I ignored for a long time, and I am exhausted. Who wouldn't be after having to make sure you don't get turned into mincemeat for hours on end?

"It is 9:40. Dress appropriately. We will see you in the town square. Don't disappoint me." My father ordered blankly. I nodded my head as he and my brother, who is growling at me, walking by side with my dad. After they left through the door. I walked over to the private showers in the training room, and began rinsing the blood off me. Normally the other students will be here, but today is the District-wide celebratory holiday known as Reaping Day. The day where legends are made, and Victors are chosen. As they like to say.

Today, the specialty areas of the Training Center is reserved for the chosen volunteers, and other acceptable students and staff. None of them dared go into the weapon training room, in fear of my intimidating father and murderously insane brother. That is, all except that little shadow hiding behind the weapon display cabinet near the corner of the room. One of my only companions in the District. After getting out of the showers, and putting some decent clothing on, I came back to the room to find that little shadow, holding a knife and supporting a big grin as she noticed me.

She had black hair, Asian complexity, and dark eyes, could be called black if you want to describe it. She average height for a sixteen year old, and she have a well developed body, both in physical department, and I admit, the sexual one as well. Carelessly throwing a knife into a dummy, hitting it straight in the head. She ran up and hugged me. Something that I only experience from her, and even then it is on very rare occasions, so it is still a new feeling for me. Normally when one touches me, it is nearly all the time an attempted assault, or in my brother's case, trying to strangle me to death.

I don't know this feeling, it feels... how do I put it? Warm? Soft? I don't really understand perhaps, but it is certainly different. More, accepting.

And, the only reason why I am even allowed to associate with her is because she is also a child of a Victor. My dad would not let me associate with other unruly peasants, as most of my family dubs them.

"You survived!? Oh my God I thought I was going to lose you there." She giggled as she released me from her grip.

"You thought I was going to die? I am disappointed in you, Aiko." I said, faking a pout.

"I seen your brother, he is not one to reject an opportunity to spill blood..." Aiko said, as I remain solemn. Aiko then smiled as she grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the room, and into another one. This one was spacey, but not large enough as most of the other areas in this building. It had a small ring, no railings, and had a couple chairs around it. This was a private sparring room, and I know that this girl will not let me go until she gets what she wants. She have been here since before me, hiding in that place and watching me fight for her own entertainment. It have come to me that even when I am fighting to the death, she always wanted me as the center of her amusement.

She jumped up on the ring and stood in the middle, hands on her hips, and looking at me. I just stood there and stared, and she began to grow irritated. Might as well return the favor by making her agitated as well.

"So, the mighty Vivian. Son, brother, and cousin of three famous Hunger Games Victors, is afraid to fight a small girl like me? This is surely going on the gossip vine tonight." Aiko giggled. I just have the worst luck in the world don't I? Well, I have some time left, might as well use it wisely. I didn't even eat yet though, but then again, there would be tons of food from what I heard in the train, so I could manage. Considering the fact there may be times where there is a shortage of food in the arena, I will just have to get used to it.

Grudgingly, I went up on the ring and faced her. She have a confident look on her face and went into her usual stance. No weapons apparently, just pure fighting. I nodded my head for her to begin, and she dashed forward and aimed a kick towards my gut. Sidestepping the first blow. I grabbed her arm, she tried to break free, but she can't escape my grip now. Pulling her in, I punched her directly in the face, and she went down.

But, like my non-existent good will and luck, Aiko popped back up unfazed and aimed a chop to my neck, intending to most likely knock me out. Leaning backwards, I went under the arm, grabbed it, and flip her over on the hard wood that makes up the ring. The impact rumbled a vibrating sound from the impact, but even then Aiko went back up and continued fighting back like that didn't just happen.

This went on for a while, Aiko attacked, I put her on the floor. Repeat. I am terrible at keeping time, so I decided to let her have a shot at me. Thinking that she would be tired, I can't express how much I regretted it, she punched my directly in the jaw, and the force knocked me down. Looking up, I was expected to see her face full of smug. But to my surprise, she was furious.

"YOU BAKA! DON'T YOU _EVER_ HOLD PUNCHES AT ME! I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY! YOU OVERGLORIFED BOAR'S ANUS!" She screeched, as I winced on the floor from the volume of her voice. I didn't even have a moment to tell her an excuse, as she began stomping on me in rage.

While I have taken more severe beatings without even so much as twitching, when one anger an emotional female, who so happens to be a prodigy in close handed combat, and also know and memorized by heart the fifty-five practical ways of killing people, you are bound to feel some kind of pain. And, as the universe love me so much, I was on the receiving end of it.

Now, I am walking down the street to the square, bruised, battered, clothes all wrinkled up, and my once combed black hair now in different directions, having to be berated from my father for bringing dishonor to the family is the very least of my worries. With Aiko grinning in entertainment at my distress, people would think we did more than 'train'. While I may not give a snowball's chance in hell a second glance in gossip, rumors of a relationship, as they call it, with the son of the 'most honorable Carosso family' and the daughter of Hiroki Adachi will certainly be on the daily news page, and considering my love with whoever the bastard that runs my life deal with my luck, could very well be on the front cover.

Oh what a wonderful day.

"...what do you think?" Her voice caught my attention.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, as she rolled her eyes.

"I mean, the other Careers. Sure the outer tributes will bring little worry, but the other ones. What do you think?"

Ah, finally, I possible decent and sane conversation with someone.

"District 4 tend to send weak students, if some at all, compared to us and even District 1. They should pose no threat. District 1 sometimes send decent ones, which might cause some worry, but can be managed. My district partner though... I don't even remember much of her." I deduced. Aiko put her hand on her chin and began to think for a while.

"Well, her name is Reese Caspian if I remember correctly... Her family is supportive to the Capitol, and she barely appears for training."

I had to hold a snort. Aiko seems clearly more capable, but then again, I wouldn't want to face her in the arena, and the trainers and her father says she needs more experience.

"It seems like they choose anyone to volunteer nowadays." I said, and at this, she glared at me.

"There was two times we spar. And she beat me both of the times."

Now _that_ surprised me. I know with me, it is child's play to win a match against her, but then again, I am basically the strongest one in the center, as it proves no challenge to beat anyone in the academy. Including the fact the Aiko even received high standing recognition at even the early age of fourteen, this Reese might actually be some sort of threat.

Aiko noticed my expression.

"Geez, Vivi', don't need to be so piss scared, you beat me easily, I couldn't even lay a blow on you. I am sure you will do fine!" Aiko grinned at me.

Aside from all the crap I have to put up from my life, having someone who believed that you can actually achieve really makes all of it worth my time.

We came to the sign up station, where a few kids were hurrying to get signed it. The whole square was filled with the citizens of District 2, and due to the clock in the center of it, we can see clearly that we are far in fact late. Bidding Aiko goodbye, I went up into the desk, gave my information to the Peacekeeper, and gave him my hand. I have come to feel pain so much, that I didn't even feel it when they pricked my finger. Going down the row and into the eighteen year old section. The Capitol video, which was playing while I was signing in, was over and the escort went back to the microphone.

I have never understood Capitol apparel, and it never ceases to amaze me on the fabricated grotesqueness about it. She was wearing a massacre of colors, and her hair was dyed rainbow-themed, from red to violet down her long hair. The make-up was so artificial and fake it was overwhelming and she when she talked about what an honor it was to be here, her voice was so loud and squealing.

Ah yes, me and that person who runs our existence sure love each other.

The mayor, a prickled old man with white hair, which is balding, and hunched back. He read off our eight victors and read the Treaty of Treason. He praised us for our diligence and work to being the District with the largest amount of Victors, and the crowd cheered. I don't like paying too much attention at Hunger Games glory, or for the fact why am I volunteering. I know it is because I was trained to and all but... why? To bring more honor most likely, but I could just be a high ranking Peacekeeper, that would have sufficed enough. Unfortunately, it won't. But even if it did, who said I had a choice?

"A beautiful message! So marvelous!" The escort exclaimed, swooning in awe. Even the most frantic of Capitol supporters can tell that she is overreacting. All for the cameras. "Now, time for the best part of the day! Picking two brave, bold, warriors to fight in the most upmost honor of the Hunger Games!"

The square erupted in cheers, as the escort waits excitedly for them to calm down. She walked over to the girl's bin and slowly puts a hand in. Before she can even touch a slip, a hand raised up.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" A voice called out from the across the row, into the girl's section. A tall brunette walked forward with a grin on her face. I eyed her for a while, she looks fit, trained, and if this is actually this Reese, then she would make a formidable ally. When the escort, who is smiling from grin to grin about having a strong looking girl as the female tribute, confirmed of my suspicion that it was Reese. From the looks, she have the strength, but the mentality, she acts like all of it was just a game. Even the most arrogant or sadistic of Careers have some sort of look on their face that this will be not just fun and fluff. No, they have the look like they know that this will cause at least some trouble. No one gets out of the arena unscathed, either physically, or mentally. Most of the time both.

This girl, she doesn't have the look. And that alone, tells me she would cause some problems.

And again, what else did I expect? She dyed a Victor's undergarments _pink_. The same Victor that holds the records of the most kills in the Hunger Games for over twenty four years now, and possibly twenty five. I may be capable of beating anyone at the Training Center in even a five on one match, but not a Victor, even the weakest one, I can't barely beat without taking severe damage. It is a wonder how she is not dead yet.

Like always, whoever runs my life, hates me, and clearly favors her more.

The escort is already at the boy's bowl, and is about to put a hand in. Well, rather die in the Games, than by the hands of my brother, or possibly even my father. I had enough of near death beatings today than I ever did throughout my poor eighteen years of existence. Or it sure feels that way. Maybe the punch Aiko gave me still making my mind blurry.

"I volunteer as tribute." I announced, as I calmly walked over to the stage. The escort even smiled more, as now she have two strong tributes that represent her and her reputation. What more, I am part of the famous Carosso family, the one who is claimed to be the next Victor. Of course a Capitolian in a high ranking job as an Escort would surely not be content until he or she have the most epitome of them all. And that, to my great annoyance, is me.

"A strong hunk, right here!" The escort screeched, as I had to discreetly shudder, I found Aiko in the crowd, and it she have a furious look on her face. She is most likely upset about what the escort said, out loud if you don't mind.

"So, tell me, mind if you announce your name to Panem. Mark yourself in the history books?" The clinging escort asked. As I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. Taking a page off of my now District partner.

"Vivian Carosso." I answered simply. As the escort squealed in excitement,

"Perfect! We see winners this year folks! Ladies and Gentlemen, this year volunteers!" The escort cheered over the microphone, as the square applauded. "Shake hands, future Victors."

I faced Reese, as she let out a grin and shook my hand. There is a mask, like a hidden puzzle, about her. She acts careless, but I am not foolish. Something is off, she doesn't want me to know anything, if the looks on her face says so. I am not like one of the geniuses at the Nut, but solving problems would be of great use in the arena. And if I want to come back alive, I would need to know about my opponents. Same for the other Careers. Even if they are weaker, if they are chosen to volunteer, there would be something about them that makes them qualified, above their standards.

Some Games this would be...

* * *

1st POV- Mila Corinth- District 6 Female Tribute- Age of 16.

* * *

"Don't lose focus! If this fight continues on, you would be dead! Come back harder!" A voice ordered, as my hand gripped the sword, my forehead beading with sweat. Charging forward, I attempted to slash her through the side, but she blocked the strike with her knife.

Pulling back I tried for a different approach, this time trying for a vertical angle through her shoulder. She had brought the knife upward, deflecting the sword, and swept me under my feet. Landing on the ground hard, I rolled to the side before she could pierce me and swing my sword across. Effectively leaving a gashing cut across her arm.

Quickly getting up on my feet, I pointed my sword at her heart, and forced her to surrender.

"I guess I lost. You are more than ready. We will talk more in the train." Tabitha, my mentor, grinned at me. Nodding to her in appreciation, I washed the blood off me in the bathroom, and headed out of her mansion in Victor's Village. Craig, my dick of a father, lives right across from her. But I don't belong there anyways. I have a promise to keep to him though, and today was my time to uphold it.

It have not been a year yet since I have kicked myself out of the house. With my younger brother as well. But it doesn't feel so much different. Living with my friend Keith and Alexander, although it feels so much more better, aside from the fact that I know this year I will be going to the Games. A deal I struck with the bastard, to not lay a hand on him. Because he have a different preference. If it were like in District 1 I assume it would be okay, but here in District 6, as population is quite low, it is generally looked down upon, and it could make someone reputation diminish.

I never understood it. But my dad took it to the extreme, same for that slut of a stepmother.

_No time dwelling in the past, need to prepare myself. _I thought to myself, as I got out of Victor's Village and walked down the run down suburban streets of District 6. Normally it would be bustling with people, selling merchandise, the younger kids goofing off and making a mess out of things- which I don't mind, fun times pranking the mayor's family, or the Peacekeepers when I was feeling bold enough-, and the rise of those morphling addicts in the alleyways selling them. Never tried them, and hopefully never will. I don't want drugs to make me happy, I can very well do that by myself.

But today, the streets are silence, some people walking with each other, whispering solemnly, and some adults heading for the nearby bar. To take a shot or two for this day I supposed. It is all dreary, and it all just doesn't fit my mood. Especially when you know that you are going to be fighting for your life in a week, all just to continue this damned heritage for my sorry excuse of a dad, and stop him from hurting my brother just because he was different.

The smell of oil is still in the air, but only a lingering feeling, as workers are off today. I never really noticed it till now, when the smell of gasoline is only standing by, lingering from a busy day. I know for a fact that the Capitol won't have this aroma, and it won't feel like home. Nor will the other tributes, whom all except one will be dead by the end of the month, be welcoming, neither the tributes from the Careers District either. I will have to ally with them someway in order to stand a chance, but will I be able to play in their level. I might be the daughter of a Victor, but even so, they are trained by several. I have only been trained by two. One if you count the fact my father stopped training me after I left the house. And even then I can't trust them, last year, the girl from District 1 killed her ally, or what seems like friends, after she was bloodied and begging for help. To think such an unforgiving person won the Games.

I guess people will do anything to win, and I am not excluded.

Walking through the slums, junk littered all across the yards and lights off in most of the house. I come across my current home, and opened the battered door. The smell of a savory type of meat filled the air of the small house, as Keith, one of my friends and the owner of this house, is over the stove, frying a curvy and crispy looking meat on the pan.

Bacon, a rare delicacy in District 6. One pack of it have the same amount of value as a used car. In other words, expensive.

Keith doesn't noticed me, as I calmly walked behind him, peering slightly to the pan for a better look. The cooking oil under the meat is bubbling, as he flips it over with a spatula. Staying away from his line of sight, I slowly backed up and began getting his attention.

"How did you afford bacon? Don't tell me there is a secret stash in here." I asked while leaning over the counter. He jumped a little, as he turned to face me.

"Seems like your stealth is unpredictable. You are good enough to be my shadow you know." He chuckled, as I snorted at him.

"Would take the offer, but your girlfriend would be plotting out my death, and I don't want her on my back anytime soon." I commented, and at this he laughs.

"I feel you Mila. Anyways, Rachelle is in my room putting on some make up, and Alex brought Will out to do one of his mischief again. Might want to brush up before eating, they will come any minute now." Keith suggested, getting back to cooking the bacon. I walked down the narrow hall and into the room on the left and switching on the lights, revealing the tidy room, compared to the outside.

Well part of it. My long time friend Alex's side of the room can make the junkyard nearby the District look like those platinum buildings in District 1 and the Capitol. It reeks too.

There was three mattresses on the floor, and I took the one away from Alex's side and near the door, with my brother Will's in the wall and Alex's near the window. Let some of the putrid order escape through the window, it helps a lot. Walking over to wooden dresser, I opened it and took out a dark mahogany tank top, some jeans, and a leather jacket. It have been slightly torn from the times I wore it, but it still looks presentable enough not for the Peacekeepers to barge in our home and demand money.

Lacing up some leather shoes, I left the room and went back into the kitchen and dining room area to find that Keith have already set up the plates on the table, with him and his lover Rachelle, a very short girl who happens to be nineteen, nearly shorter than me, sitting on the table eating bacon and a bowl of can vegetables. Three other plates were set, and I decided to sit next to Keith, and began eating down the meal.

Oh, that reminds me, where is Will and Alex.

The door slamming open with the two guys in question, panting heavily as Alex quickly slammed the door shut.

"Remind me not to listen to what this guy offer me to do." Will deadpanned, as the whole table laughed.

"Will, you have been here for almost a year, if you have not realized that by now, you will need some help." Rachelle snickered, as he huffed and Alex was still gasping for air.

"Never, ever, engage contact with morhplings and drunk girls any given time. High possibility of being castrated, and an even higher chance of death." He said, plopping down on a chair and began eating.

Do I even want to know what happen?

"He groped a couple girls at the bar, claiming that it would be _'_educational' and will 'motivate' me to 'go all out'." Will explained, as me and Keith sweat dropped and Rachelle glared at the culprit.

Yep, I didn't want to know.

"I regret nothing." He said with a grin as he chomped down at his plate.

In times like these, I know that I will miss this place for when I am in the Games. Surrounded by kids and teens I don't even know. Facing the imminent possibility of dying, and performing this all for the sick and twisted entertainment of the Capitol. Sure the some rebels are still alive after this time, but this have been going on for thirty years. Sickening. And to think that I am going this year.

But, I won't regret it, I promised my father that if I volunteer... and came back alive, he won't hurt Will. That is all the motivation I need.

And I plan on fulfilling that promise, even if it means getting my hands of innocent blood.

[One hour later]

I am grateful we came on an average time. The lines are simple, and the square, which is near District 6's train station, the largest one in all of Panem, and the Justice Building, which have been renovated each year for the Reaping. Even before two kids fates are sealed, everything need to look prim and proper for the cameras.

They can't hide the truth though, they can never truly conceal it. The forlorn looks on the faces of citizens, and the sorrow when the loves ones are reaped. They can't hide it with special effects, especially when it is live. And the fear expressed on the tributes' faces. No one can hide it.

Besides, nothing is hidden in the Games. Not when secrets are revealed, or betrayals are shown. All the Victors' moments are recorded. And everything they do in the Games, and after are monitored. Controlled mostly be President Cheren. Am I will also be watched by the President after I win the Games... if I win. Perhaps.

Well, that can't be all true, but everyone knows of my father's two kids. But they don't know what he do to them. Everyone knows of that whore he calls my stepmother, but no one knows she never stood up for me or Will. All they know of is my father's victory in the Hunger Games. All they know of is how my father killed the messed up in the head District 7 girl. They all know when he decapitated that boy from District 1 in the bloodbath. They don't know what is posted on the T.V or the magazines.

That brings little comfort, but not enough to relieve my stress.

Already signed in, I went into the sixteen year old section and stood right next to a girl with black hair and brown eyes, she was slightly taller than I was, and she had a cast over her leg, which explains why she is standing on crutches. I see the fear in her eyes, but this year, I know she won't be reaped, and will be healed by next year. For I am going to the Games myself, not her.

The clock hand turned to the one, and the escort went up to the stage. She had natural red hair, which natural hair is very rare to find in the Capitol from what I saw in the television, with an orange dress and shoes. The only impurity I find in her is the tattoo on her neck, I couldn't see that closely so I can't make the figure out, but it spells out a word, or is a bunch of shapes. Most likely the former, but considering the style those Capitol people wear, it is not generally improbable.

"Hello, citizens of District 6. It is an honor for me to be here to choose two brave young man and woman to represent us in the Hunger Games." I rolled my eyes at this, most, if not all, escorts want either District 1, 2, or 4. The Career Districts, and the people I will have to team up with if I want to increase my chances of survival. They tend to be bloodthirsty, from what I saw in the previous Games. Well trained and knows well about survival, which is another reason allying with them is a good idea. But they are also arrogant, and don't generally think logically, which tends to be their downfall most of the time. Underestimating an opponent. Though, in all the Games for the past seven years, the Victors have been Careers, and will be the dominating force in the Games.

Throw in the fact that they serve the Capitol's wishes, and is dosed in wealth, they are pretty much the Games. The problem for me is, how do I survive. Let the get killed off? Two or three will still remain after the final eight most of the times, so I can't rely on that fact. Nor will poisoning their food or killing them in their sleep will be a good option either. I might be able to fight one Career in an all out brawl and come out alive, two if I am at a huge advantage with either weapons or terrain, but three or all, I can't survive that.

I can't use the strategy of how my mentor and friend Tabitha won either. As she won in a time before the Careers were formed. Killing off the dominating forces first, the hulking mass of flesh from District 2. The spear wielder from 11. And later on killing the girl from District 10, who blew darts at tributes with pinpoint accuracy. But, that was eighteen years ago. The same tactic won't work now.

Thinking about these plans and strategy really took a toll on my attention span, as the list of Victors were already read. Only two, my father, Craig Corinth, and Tabitha Quentin, the video was played, and the Treaty of Treason was read. Now the escort is walking over to the girl's bowl and pulling a slip out. When she got to the microphone, I raised my hand high.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I yelled out loudly, as all eyes are focused on me. Ignoring them, I walked over to the escort, expecting a smile from her, as she got a volunteer. Surprisingly she only gave a glance before asking my name.

Whatever, not like it won't matter.

"Mila Corinth." I said, as she gave a small smile. I peered my eyes over to where my father and Tabitha are. On the Victor's stand. Tabitha had a neutral look on her face, and my dad had a grin adorned on his face.

So your only daughter is being sent to her possible death, and you have the audacity to smile? Twisted bastard.

Looking over to the crowd, I saw Alex first, on the seventeen year old section, with a shocked look on his face. I am guessing he, Keith and Rachelle thought I was going to volunteer when I was eighteen. But, I didn't told them clearly what the deal was entitled to, and made them totally unprepared for today. I owe an apology once I get to the Justice Building. Keith also had a shocked look on his face, then slowly went to somber as he realized that the day I was going was today. Rachelle just have her eyes widened slightly but with no other emotions.

The escort walked over to the boys bowl and picked out a slip, walking to the microphone, she unwrapped it and read out the name clearly.

"Jack McRenese" She called out. Slowly the thirteen year old parted to make way for a boy with black hair, and with a slightly developed build. I recognize him as a regular captain in PE for the middle schoolers, as I heard from Will. I see the shock look registered on his face, as he makes his way down to the stage. I noticed the shocked look of the girl who I stood right next to, as she stares in horror as Jack went up to the stage near the escort.

A pang went in my stomach, as I realized that they are brother and sister. It is now that much harder for me to be able to kill the kid if me and him miraculously make it to the final two.

I never understood why people in the Games betray one their friends, when not even close to the finals yet.

"Here is our tributes that will be representing District 6. Lets give a warm round of applause." The escort said over the microphone, as solemn clapping filled the air, as me and Jack shook hand. I won't be able to ally with him, as unless he shows some sort of skills, he won't get accepted into the Careers. And they themselves might kill him once the Games begin.

But, all to their own. I need to uphold my end of the deal, so my brother won't get abused by my father. He can be with whoever he choses to be, my father should have no say in this, even if it is looked down upon. And, for his freedom, my morals must be sacrificed.

We are lead to the Justice Hall, as all these thoughts are stuck in my head. Fear of dying, the danger to come. Will I even survive? I should not have doubt, as it will distract me from thinking clearly.

I guess that I will just have to find out if I am capable enough...

* * *

1st POV- Pauline Whisk- District 9 Female Tribute- Age of 12.

* * *

I couldn't sleep last night. Since the thoughts today had me gripping my pillow in fear. If I were chosen, I would not make it far, maybe not even past the beginning. I am afraid of dying. I am terrified.

I wept in my pillow.

I didn't want to get out of my bed. In fear of getting killed once I go outside. The images of the Games are vibrantly stuck in my head. The girl from four, gouging out that poor guy's eyes out. Or when in the Quarter Quell, I saw the boy from my home. District 9, head getting sawed off. Even last year, when the girl from one killed that girl from four, already on the verge of dying. I am sure that I will get a unique death of my own. No one can resist a mayor's daughter in the Games, and if I were picked, everyone's attention will be on me when I die.

Crying in the bed, the door quietly opened and my dad came into my room.

"Honey, breakfast is ready." Dad told me, as he comforted me in the bed. Nodding numbly, I wiped the tears from my eyes as we made our way down to the kitchen. Mom would have been here, but she is working in the office, being the Mayor of District 9, she is very busy, and my dad and I spend most of our time together. Sitting down in a chair, a plate of oatmeal and cornbread on the side rested on the table, with apple juice set near the plate. I took the spoon and began eating the meal.

Dad sat next to me, as we eat in silence. I am a bit okay now, but the thoughts of being reaped still haunts me. No one from District 9 won the Hunger Games, and most of the time at least one of them dies in the bloodbath. Even with the economy slightly improving from what I heard, there is still major poverty around the area. And the minimum work age is twenty, so most of us go to the Games without any skills to fall back on.

My mom and dad told me it would be alright, as I only had one slip, but twelve year old being reaped are not uncommon. They never past the bloodbath, and even when one did, they didn't make it far. Maybe if I skip the Bloodbath, I might survive, but I can't live off the wilderness. I have no training in it. Even though I heard that there are times in the Capitol we would train, I don't think it will be enough time for my to learn all of the survival tricks, and remembering them.

Besides, if I do skip it, I won't have supplies, and the Careers are sure to hunt other tributes down. Even if they don't get me, starvation, weather, or mutts will catch me. Thinking of this scares me even more, as I coughed a bit. Drinking some apple juice, I finished off my bread and oatmeal and washed my plate clean. Before I was going to go back upstairs to change, my dad stopped me.

"Don't be afraid Pauline... I don't think you will get picked at all. Just don't stress yourself out." My dad hugged me, as I held on tight.

We were like this for a few minutes, before my dad let go and went outside. I went to upstairs and into my room, where I am opened my closet and tried to find out what I could wear. They said I have to look nice, but I don't know why we should look nice. It is not a happy time, but rules are rules, and I need to follow them. Picking a baby blue dress, with some black dress shoes and white stockings, I went to the mirror and began brushing my teeth. Minty paste clears my breath from the odor of oat and corn, and I started to style my black hair into pigtails. Finishing all that up, before I went back downstairs, I looked at the mirror. I see myself staring back at me with fearful and curious eyes.

All the good things in my life, I saw at that moment, and I now, really, very, don't want to die. Tears sprung up again as I sobbed in the bathroom. What if I am reaped, what if I am going to the Games, what about my family? Or my friends? Will anyone really miss me? My dad and mom will, my friends will, but who else? I am too young, too unprepared. I just can't die. I know it is selfish to think I should go in the Games, as I am the Mayor's daughter, but I am just not ready. The Games are sick, twisted, leaves a grungy feeling in my stomach.

How could people enjoy watching other people die?

Wiping off the tears in the sink. I put on some perfume and went down to the front of my mansion, where my dad is outside, dressed up in a long sleeved brown shirt, with black pants and brown shoes. Which fits his muscular figure. Holding his hand, we walked away from our yard and into the short walk to the square. The mansion is nearby the Justice Building, where the Reaping will take place. The stage and cameras are all set up, as people from the Capitol makes sure everything is in check. I let go of my dad's hand and hugged him, while I went into the sign up area for the Games. I know that I will have to give my name, gender, and birthday, but the thing that scare me is that they are going to be taking a sample of my blood.

I am terrified of pain, and I am scared of how would they take my blood sample. Is it with a needle, or with a Capitol machine. Or worse, will they use a knife?

The line shortened, as it was the boy in front of me turn to go. He had short and curly black hair, and was telling his information to the Peacekeepers at the table. He then gave his hand to a Peacekeeper with a weird looking machine. I heard a buzz come from it and a click. The Peacekeeper then pressed his finger on the paper, then pulled it back up, revealing a red marking on the paper. Dismissing him, I was up next in the line.

"Name?" The raspy voice of the Peacekeeper asked me.

"Pauline Whisk." I replied, as he wrote my name down on a box in the paper.

"Date of birth?"

"April 30th, 19 ADD."

He wrote my birthday down on paper and grabbed my hand that was on the table. Fear swelled up in me as he held the machine to my finger. I felt a sting and it was pressed down on the paper. It hurts as he brought it back up and dismissing me. A red dot was on my finger as I put my other hand around it to soothe the sting. Walking over to the twelve year old section, I remembered that I still had a chance of being reaped. And now it all became so real now. No longer being in the side, with my father, but with the older teens and kids my age around me, all thinking about their chances of being chosen. With going to be dead in the Games.

I tried to relax myself as more teens filled the square. Nearly everyone have greater chances than I did, all the older kids have more than one, and some twelve year old have to take tesserae. And even if they aren't chosen, their brother or sister might be, and not everyone have the courage to volunteer. At least not in District 9, as we and District 12 are called the Bloodbath Districts, since we have no Victors, not even one. Are the kids over their thinking the same thing as well? Maybe so, I am not the only one as well.

The clock rung, as the funny looking escort came forward. She had too bright of a yellow hair to be called blonde, and her outfit is stylish with the colors of light brown and yellow. Her skin is an unnatural color of pale pink, and her face is full of makeup. She don't really have an excited expression as most other escorts have, but then again, we are one of the Bloodbath Districts, we are not always the cream of the crop.

"Good morning District 9, I will like to say what an honor for me to be here, and be sure to pay attention to the video from the President." She announced over the microphone, as the screen behind her displayed the Capitol seal.

"War, terrible war." It droned, as I watched the film. It went to talk about basically from what I can understand, the disasters from long ago, how Panem rose up among ashes and built a prosperous nation. The Dark Days, the destruction of District 13, and how they blamed us for the loss of lives. So the Capitol made the Hunger Games, twenty four children, a girl and boy from each district, will represent their district, in 'a pageant of honor and sacrifice' as the Victor is showered with praise, a Capitol model holding a sword in his hand.\, and a clip was shown from the first Hunger Games, as Ben Carosso emerged victorious, with bloodied fists raised in the air. It all felt wrong and sickening, as the video ended, and my mom came up and wished us luck for the Games.

It must be depressing to say that for a lot of years and none ever showed much progress. Mom read the Treaty of Treason, which I understood nothing about, and since we didn't have any Victors, she don't have a list, or a single name, to read off of. Passing the microphone back to the escort, she then announced that the actual Reaping will begin.

Terror struck me as she headed to the girls' bowl and dug a hand in. I watched as she took out a slip and walked back to the speaker. Forgetting about what my chances are or no, I am scared to the point where I feel nauseous. My body trembling as she read the name.

"Pauline Whisk."

_Crash._

My whole world fell apart.

My dreams, my ambitions, my friends and family. All broken. Everyone turned to me, as I stared blankly around me. Tears come in my eyes, as I just let go. Kneeling down, I began doing what I was doing for the morning, sobbing, weeping, but to a whole new extent.

I was going to die.

A pair of strong hands grabbed me as I was carried to the stage. I couldn't see clearly, as my vision was watery, and my ears were blocked off by my misery. I didn't bother to look at my parents, nor my friends. That will just make them feel worse. Everyone knew I was going to die. Not even surpass the first day.

Death.

The thought makes me want to sob even more, but I realized that I ran out of tears and was still on the floor. Deciding that now I have no choice, I stood up as the escort called the boy's name out.

"Harvey Giles."

The crowd didn't part the way they did for me, as I am not familiar with the name. A boy, with black curly hair, walked silently to the stage. It was that boy in the line. He also had a terrified look on his face, but he wasn't crying like I was. But I know what is going on through his mind, the same as mine.

Death.

The escort looks clearly disappointed with us, as she told the square to applause for the tributes representing our district. Mournful clapping filled my ears, as my throat began to choke up. The escort looking back at us, quickly told us to shake hands.

The boy seemed friendly, at least, from the smile on his face as he helped me up and shook my hand. Could we be allies? I wanted to ask, but I doubt that we can make it far, even with both of us, what is some weaklings from District 9 going up against swords and knives from the Careers. We can't, we would die.

Death.

I sob reached escaped my mouth as we are lead to the Justice Building. The thought repeats all through my mind, my thoughts, my emotions, all based around this word.

I am not ready. I am not prepared. Please, oh please don't let me die! If someone have the ability to save me, please listen. I want to be with my friends, mom, dad, not to the Games. Please!

I can't run away, I can't escape, I am trapped. And I am up for slaughter...

* * *

**Right... Sorry for the long wait. Nineteen days, twenty depending on where you live, the longest time between updates for this story I have so far. I plan on not repeating that, but school is really taking its toll.**

**Alright, I decided that there will be no sponsorship thingy. But there are ways to help your tribute out: following, favorite, and most importantly, reviewing. Leave a comment on your thoughts on this chapter, as I am always looking for way to improve my writing. Any questions? Leave them in the review box or PM me and I will answer to as soon as possible.**

**Lastly, Happy Hunger Games!**


	8. A Dose of Insanity and a Touch of Sugar

1st POV- Wren Rimsky- Deputy Gamemaker- Male- Age of 28.

* * *

"... Ladies and gentlemen, this year's volunteers!" Lizian cheered, as I grinned when the two Careers shook their hands. Watching the Live Reaping from the television suited near my seat in the casino, I was ready to entertain myself by watching this year's batch of kids. It really passes the time, while the light-weight Head Gamemaker, losing terribly in a Poker match with Berretta and other Gamemakers.

After they shook hand, the Capitol Seal appeared, and it showed the old and prickled Hunger Games commentator Tyler Powell discussing the Careers from District 2 with last year's Victor, Ruby Syed. Ah yes, that District 1 girl. While it may not be my pick to win- the District 10 boy had it in the bag the moment that District 2 archer boy was dead-, the girl still provided entertainment to the Capitol, and was worthy of being called a Victor. Though, I lost a decent amount of money as well because of it.

This year though, I might find another tribute to gamble on: Vivian Carosso, son of the Victor of the 1st Hunger Games, and little brother to the Victor of the 27th Hunger Games. Once he volunteered, the casino exploded in bets flying through for the kid. This concerns me, because the more people bet on a tribute, the less money I gain back. Even if he wins, it will only be a fraction of the profit I was expecting.

But, then again, all I saw so far was only two districts, and besides, I will have first class viewing of the tributes for when they start to train. Increasing my odds of gaining huge amount of cash, other then my paycheck as Deputy Gamemaker.

Normally, like every year, I would try to stay focus on the Reaping, but it have became routine now, doing it for over five years now. Their names will be recorded anyways, and I will see them in the parade or the Training Room anyways. Turning back to the bar, I called out to the bartender, asking him for a good, cold bottle of whiskey. Plopping down some coins, I snapped open the lid, and took a huge chug.

The energy rushed quickly, as my head already felt the weight from the alcohol already.

Must've been some strong stuff, or maybe it is because I haven't drink in over three months, due to the amount of hard work I had to do in the office.

Although, I am interested to see what will come in the next few weeks. It might just be another year, but with the masterpiece of an arena Ryun conceived, and the prospect of a prodigy in the Games, I have my reasons to be excited.

Taking another huge gulp, I sighed, as I took the bottle and went out of the casino, for a quick breath of air. Walking into the grandiose square, filled with colorful lights as the cars zoom pass ahead in the slightly emptied road. Considering it is Reaping almost everyone is in front of a T.V getting first look at the tributes for the upcoming Hunger Games. The square itself was packed with citizens who were standing in front of several large television fit for a movie theatre, as Ruby shared her opinion about the two District 2 tributes.

Well, then there is the issue with the Districts, apparently. Perhaps the economic boom of the Capitol reached out into the Districts. Even though not by a lot, there have been less poverty, and President Cheren is not pleased with the development. Normally I wouldn't give a second glance, but if it concerns the economy, it affects my paycheck, and that, right there, is where I take it personal.

The President would fix it though, at least, that is what I am hoping he would do. Besides, with this year's Games, there will be some change in the system. That much I can bet on.

Ryun should be broke by now, I might need to check to see if no bankers are coming to reclaim, like they did last year, and perhaps the year before that, but I was passed out that time. Wouldn't want to miss it this year, and see how the kid would get out of this situation now.

* * *

1st POV- Caritta Elmoss- District 11 Female Tribute- Age of 14.

* * *

The song of the mockingjays echoed through the orchard.

A small sigh escaped me lips, as I carefully climbed down from the tree I was perched on. It is still unusual for me to get ready to leave the fields with the sun this up in the sky. Normally, it would already by down and dark, but work have been cut short because this is a _special _day, and not a good one mind you. I began walking with the other workers that walked solemnly on the large dirt path that lead to the work station, where all laborers would sign in and out on their shift.

Walking inside the wooden building, I signed in my name on the work schedule that contained the time I was supposed to finish, and headed off to my home, a twenty minute walk from here. It was only down the end of the dirt track, where the only cars that ever pass by here are the Peacekeeper's patrol jeeps. Normally, when I would go down this road, there would be some of the younger kids playing in front of their shacks, or the elderly sitting in the makeshift porches and communicating with each other on various topic, smiling at me as I walked by.

Today, however, the streets are barren, a ghost town even, as the only thing I see is an old, rugged and patched up ball lying on the middle of the road. Surely it will be contained by Peacekeepers, if on a regular day for leaving it out. They are at the District Square in the well-to-do area right now, as security for the Capitol crewman who came to film the choosing of two kids who will be up for slaughter.

I cringed at the thoughts of the Games, as I continued walking, any other persons on the road are either workers heading off into their shared shacks, or already dressed and heading off to the Reaping early, but mainly the adults, the single ones, or those who already lost their children would come early, along with gamblers as well. Strolling by a house, I heard large amounts of crying. I see a little boy, who looks to be about twelve, no more than that, sobbing his eyes out as he buries his head into the hem of his mother's skirt. A pang of sorrow clenched into my gut, as I tried to continue heading towards my house. If people are already getting ready, then it means that I would probably be late. The punishment for it with no valid excuse is a public whipping, seventy-five strikes.

Each time someone was whipped in the post, there was always a large amount of blood pooling around the person being punished. Last week, one whipping was horrifying enough, with some much of the boy's skin ripped apart from his skin, and the blood painting his back and floor red, that he died later of blood loss. All to simply trying to store a lime from the orchards to supply for his sister in the Community Home.

It is all too sickening, as I paced faster, coming to the block that contained my house. It was only one block away from the lower class, from the shared shacks and tiny houses, to the middle class, where me and my dad just moved to. I don't know how, but I heard some adults talking about economic boom. Seems promising to me, so maybe the President is finally giving us some more lifeline since the Rebellion nearly thirty years ago. Before I was even born, and my dad was probably still a toddler at the time.

Although, the product of that was the Hunger Games, the reason why there is so much silence and sorrow throughout District 11 now.

Reaching the footsteps of my house. I unlocked the door and kicked my shoes out. I was expecting my dad to be here, also having pre-Reaping shift dressing into more suitable clothes. Though, I wasn't expecting my best friend, Mimi, to be here. Sitting in a chair at the small, square dining table, with Reaping clothes on already. Me and her hugged each other, as my dad came out of the room with a white shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to near his elbows, with some black pants and black work shoes.

"Nice to see you again sweetheart. Mimi is here because her parents have been chosen to work all day shifts today. Get ready, we will have to go soon." He instructed me, as I gave him a big hug, and went into my room to put on that new dress my dad gave me. It was pink, though it looks to be paler, and lost some exuberance of the brightness it once had. It was my mom's dress when she was my age. I never known my mom, hearing that she ran off after she and my dad had an 'unexpected' gift before they were married. But, I would love to one day meet her, and tell her that my dad never changed his opinion of her.

One day.

Putting on some shoes and some hair bands Mimi gave me as a present one time, I combed my black, frizzy hair into the ponytail that fit through the bands. Nodding to myself, I walked out of my room, to see that my dad and Mimi were up and ready to go. We walked out of our house. Locking it, in case of some of the poorer kids tried to rob our house, and headed north, to the District Square. It was a thirty minute walk, being that the place where I live is the closest lower-middle class to the District Square. Others in the far end of District 11 have to travel an hour and a half on foot, and only if they pace themselves at a decently high speed. Though, the trip to the square seems faster, as because more and more people fill the roads as we get closer, walking all in silence to the Reaping.

Mimi held my hand tighter, as fear was etched clear on her face. Both of us had to take tesserae, because even when working in the fields, it didn't quite provided the finances we need to buy food, so every year since we were eligible, we took out tesserae, while this year, my name is only in the bowl five times, Mimi had her name in there eight times, for her siblings. Even though there are more than a thousand District 11 kids able to take the Reaping, not counting the fact that most of them take tesserae as well, our odds are pretty low.

Everyone still had a chance, even if you had one slip in there, it is possible to be sent to your death.

As we walked, the buildings around us started to look cleaner, more fresh, bigger houses, and filled with people. The well-to-do upper class area of District 11, where the Justice Building is also located. Dad dropped me and Mimi off to the sign up area, wishing us the best of luck as he went with the other parents. All with an expression of fear written on their faces, worried about their children going to go to the Games. It isn't better with the teenagers and kids around me. The older one were nervous, some terrified, as they had the most odds of being reaped. While most of the younger ones were crying, or others frozen in place. We, out of thirty years of this form of execution only produced two Victors. And our most recent one only won more than two decades ago. In the 8th Hunger Games.

The line was long, and we were pretty early to begin with. So me and Mimi stood together, as we moved closer and closer to the center. Looking at her, I could see the fear in her eyes, as she shivered each time she took a step. Mimi is a really nice girl and all, but she is rather shy, not really the one to spend time with a group of kids and teens she doesn't know. To be honest, I was a little scared as well. I like to tell myself that there is so much slips in the bowl, and that it is impossible to get picked. I know it is a lie I keep telling myself, but it works, helps relieve my fear.

"Mimi, don't worry. Look around you, what are the chances of being reaped?" I told her.

"I know Caritta... it is just that I don't want to go to the Games. When did anyone come out the same from it. I don't want to come out dead, either literally, or in the inside." Mimi said, as I glanced at her and gave her a smile.

"Well then, it is good that the odds are on us. Some of us have nearly thirty slips in there. It will be fine."

Mimi returned the smile, as I walked up to the table. I gave out my name and age, and they used some machine that pricked my finger. The stinging pain only lingers there for some time, as I was sent to the fourteen year old section of the massive District Square. It was filled to the brim with so many other people, that it brings some sort of reassurance about not being reaped. Still, there are always two, young souls, sent to die, all for the Capitol. To be sent in would be terrifying, as I know that I won't stand a chance against a massive, trained Career, or a menacing, lethal mutts. Even Gamemaker induced natural disaster I may not survive, and that is only if I even could get pass the Bloodbath.

Why would anyone enjoy watching this?

More people filled the square even more, as the time displayed on the screen reads 1:25pm. District 11 is the last district to have Reaping, due to the fact that since we are the biggest producers of food for Panem- though mainly for the Capitol and Career Districts, we have to constantly supply food throughout Panem daily. So much that some of the workers, mainly those above Reaping age of course, are chosen for all-day shift. Though, it isn't really a big deal, as every day the adults have shifts that can sometimes last from dawn to dusk, depending on their wealth.

The time turned to 1:30pm, as the escort, a man who dyed his hair a deep shade of purple, with golden irises and with a pale pink tint to his skin. I wonder how the Capitol people are willing to turn what they are born with into a flurry of artificial colors and shades. I think it is okay if they do it lightly, but most of them I saw on the television whenever electricity was available were like rainbows littered all over them. He welcomed us and told us about what an honor it was for him to be the escort of District 11. For some reason, I don't think he means the whole truth, but I just shrug it off as he passed the microphone to our mayor.

I have never personally met the mayor, but like every year, I seen him deliver the routine Treaty of Treason and the list of our two Victors. He was tall in size, with a trimmed goatee on his face and a polished suit. Even on television, nearly each mayor are generally dressed up in highly formal wear. Perhaps a requirement by the Capitol. He, like every year, read off the long and tiring Treaty of Treason, and listed out our two Victors: Latoya Hark- Victor of the 2nd Hunger Games and Donny Terilan- Victor of the 8th Hunger Games. Don't know how they won, or anything really about them. District 11 is a big place, and knowing everyone is quite a daunting task. Though, if it were possible, I would enjoy meeting everyone.

The escort then thanked the mayor for his part, and then he announced to us that there will be a video from the Capitol for us to see. The widescreen then changed to the Capitol symbol, then began the low, deep voice that narrates the whole video. I never really pay much attention to it, too boring and just full of lies. I may not know much about exactly what happened during the Rebellion, but even I know that most of the things we were accused of doing are just silly.

As soon as the video stopped, the escort came up to the mike.

"Now, I will choose two brave young souls to compete in the 30th Hunger Games. Ladies first." He said, trying to sound professional, and which he is actually from previous years, all though the cosmetic changes on him each year tends to be disturbing. He walked over to the girl's bowl and dug a hand in. Any noises or conversation around the girl's side halted as he pulled a slip out. Walking over back to the front of the stage, he read out the name clearly.

"Caritta Elmoss. Please come up to the stage."

All thoughts and hopes I had were quickly diminished with that sentence. Shallowness, and pure dread I feel, as the other fourteen year olds moved out of my way. Aside from Mimi, who was too shocked to be crying or anything. The escort called out my name again, and I slowly walked over to the stage. I am going to die, and I well know it. But tears don't seem to fall from my eyes, as the escort helped me onto the stage. I am too shallow to look out to the crowd, to get a look at my dad, Mimi, or my other best friend Riley. I will get to see them in the Justice Building, that much I know, and soon, I will be shipped off in a train, to be prepared to be slaughtered.

I shouldn't be thinking any of these thoughts right now, I should be planning ahead, and focusing as the escort called out the boy's name. Though, all I can feel is numbness, as the boy, who is now my District partner and possible ally, comes up to the stage. He came from the seventeen year old section, but is smaller and slightly skinnier than most of them. I missed his name, but I will get to know it once we reach the train.

"District 11, you tributes for the 30th Hunger Games. Let's give a round of encouragement and wish them the best of luck in this upcoming event." The escort announced, as a sorrowful applause raises through the air. I guess it is our cue to shake hands, as I see my District partner stretches his hand out towards me. I held his hand and shook it, as we are lead into the Justice Building.

I won't survive out there by myself. If I don't want to die, I will need all the help I can get.

* * *

1st POV- Dusk Moon- District 10 Male Tribute- Age of 12.

* * *

The gooey touch of blood drips from my hands, as I carefully examined the pieces of organs left intact of my... experiment. Taking out what seems to be the liver, I cut it open with the knife in my hand, doused in dark red, as a huge amount of blood spewed all over the dirt ground of District 10. Any other organs by now have been dissected and ripped apart by yours truly, as I got off from the ground and stretched my limbs out from all that sitting around. The ground at my feet is already drying out with the blood of the animal I slayed today: some neighbor's cat that was unfortunate enough to cross my path.

My hands are all dirty, and there is still enough blood to spread over my spiky hair. No one really question it, assuming that I was working in the ranch, and that I usually don't have any water to clean myself with. Poverty is common in District 10, but that don't affect that much. I lost all emotions of innocence and happiness exactly two years now, and this time, I am eligible.

The Reaping, unlike most of the other kids my age, doesn't make me scared, or frightened. In fact, I would love to go in the Games. Killing random animals is fun for a while, but I need a new thrill, a new high. Something that can really excite, and the President's creation will serve me just that. It will be quite easy to win it, just fight and survive. I already know how to lit a fire, something nearly all kids know how to do, and I have constantly gutted and cleaned the innards of many animals so that will give me a definite advantage. But if I ever were to go for the Games for one reason, it is to murder that ones who took my sister away.

I don't care if they are trained by a platoon of Victors, or if they have a thousand sponsors at their beck and heel, I will seek out to exact my revenge.

Another thing that will definitely help me achieve my goal is that I can tell time by looking at the sun. Many of the farmers in District 10 are too poor to own a watch, so they learned how to tell time by tracking the sun. The knowledge have been passed down to children at a young age, and now, it will certainly help my timing better for when if I am in the arena.

As much as I would love to be in the Games, I am not dumb enough to just volunteer, even though I am eligible. I plan to do it when I am eighteen, or seventeen, possibly sixteen if I grow tall enough. The thoughts of the Games however are always a fun thought now. Speaking of the Hunger Games, it looks like it is around 12:30. District 10 have the third from the last Reaping time, the other two are District 11 and District 9, so there is plenty of time for us to get ready for it. I will have to hide my hands and wash it in the water pump in my backyard. To rid of any evidence from my activity just now.

Running out of the edge of the neighbor's farmland, I clambered over the fence marking the territory for each of our piece of land, and ran near the barn to the rusted water pump. Using my strength to pull down the lever, water poured down from the pipe as I scrubbed my hand to get rid of the dark red stains on my hands. After making sure no trace of it was left, I walked down to the back door of my wooden house that I call home and entered in. Mom, before that day two years ago, would have gathered the family over for a nice breakfast, get ready for the Reaping, and witness the picking of two weaklings off to be slaughtered in the Hunger Games. For as long as I can remember, District 10 have been labeled as a Bloodbath District, and it have been upholding its reputation well. From what I heard, we haven't had someone who lived past the third day in over twelve years, and during recent times, all of the tributes here were Bloodbath. My sister was one of the casualties, and since then, my life was never the same.

Now, mom is solemnly sitting at the table, dressed up in one of two only formal dresses she owned, a simple baby blue gown with same black, old heels. The other one was some brown, animal fur type of clothing, very rare and valuable but she refuses to sell it, and the old wedding dress that she never wear, stored locked up in the basement. Having already eaten breakfast, I went to my room and put on my only decent clothing, a dark green polo shirt with some brown pants and shoes. I only felt annoyance at the outfit, as this just don't fit me at all. I know I had to wear it for the past three years, but now, I hate this style, and it have been growing too tight on me.

The only reason I put up with the outfit is because those bastard Peacekeepers will barge into the house and demand money. Or they might take my mother away, like they took my father two years ago. I have not choice in the matter anyways, and I know this is all just a show to please that mad genius of a President. Creating the Hunger Games, killing each other off, a perfect punishment.

Me and mom walked out of the house and took the old, basically ancient car, and started it up. A loud vrooming sound bombarded my ears, and a smoke dark enough to be considered black spew out of the exhaust. District 10 is one of the few Districts that use cars. With each house being so far apart from each other, the President allowed the use of it. Though, who said we could have the quality, high tech cars District 1 and the Capitol owns. Even in District 6, most people don't own cars, costing way too much in the area even though they are specialized in _transportation_. I took my seat in the front as mom drove out of the dirt driveway and into the wide road that heads downwards to the District Square.

By the time we got there, the streets leading up to the Justice Building are filled on each side of the road with cars and those trucks with the large opening in the back. 'Pick-up trucks' they call them, and we had to park three blocks away to the left and walk the rest of the way to the Reaping. I ignore the sounds of crying and sobbing that I seen with most of the other twelve year olds as my mom tried to also comfort me. I want to tell her I am not a weakling like them, but then she would get suspicious so I just got in the line for the sign up station as my mom kissed me goodbye and went to the adult area.

As I got closer to the front, I observed a little girl who can't possibly be old enough to be twelve broke out screaming as the Peacekeepers restrained her and got some blood out for sampling. If this girl was reaped, I would bet she wouldn't make it past the Bloodbath, not even the first minute. Though, how many ways can you kill a person in less than a minute at the Bloodbath? I remembered last year there was this boy from District 8 who got killed by a knife in ten seconds into the Games. Not only that, but during two years ago, the same year my sister was sent to die, there was some girl from District 3 that got impaled by a spear in six seconds flat right after that gong sounded.

It is amusing to think about her possible demise, if she is reaped, and how fast can she die. Keeps me entertained, as the wait in line seems to pass by in seconds. It is my turn next, and I glared at the evil tool of the Capitol eyes. She looks annoyed, as she didn't have her helmet on, but that makes me continue on.

"Name and date of birth." The bitch drawled, as a spike of anger hit me. I wanted to punch her right in the face, but doing so will get me killed, and I can't outrun a platoon of those bastards. I bit out the information, as she grabbed my hand and used some type of machine to sting my hand. Blood dripped out as I was excused. That barely hurts at all! I thought it was going to be like they used a knife or something.

Annoyed, I got into the back of the twelve year old section, as I examined the group of boys near me. All of them my age, and all known to be one of the rowdier bunch of them. To see them reduced to fear and one have his eyes full of tears makes me smile even more. If they were going to the Games, they would all be Bloodbaths, not worthy of advancing past the first day. Maybe I could kill them myself, but sadly, it is one girl and one boy that could have the opportunity to go to the Games. They would die in the end though, and besides, we only have one Victor. _One_. Sure District 9 and 12 don't even have one, but that is because they are weak and unfit to survive, like most of the kids around me are.

The time turned to 1:00, as the escort. Some Capitolian woman with long strands of black hair with pale skin and a black and white dress. I can tell she looks annoyed to be here, with all the dirt and soil around District 10. Though, she can't stand even the upper class of District 10, so she must have been coddled all her life. Most Capitol citizens are, so why should I be surprised? Once she realize the cameras are rolling, she immediately went all bubbly and excited as she announced to District 10 about what an honor it is for her to support us. Normally, I would have snarled at that, but seriously, what is there to do in District 10? Aside from working.

"Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Octavia Lee and there is a very special video from the Capitol to show you guys!"

The screen started up the video, and I watched it in keen interest. Mainly about the Hunger Games part, on about wealth and glory. If I were to volunteer in a couple years or so, all of that could be mine, and as well as getting back at my sister's executioners. Oh how I want to kill all of them. Make them feel the pain she went, show them the true meaning of fear. Let them scream.

They will learn, and I will be their teacher. Wait a few more years, and then District 10 will have a Victor. The most fearsome one of all.

The mayor of District 10 then read out the Treaty of Treason, and called out our only single Victor, Sarah Parker, Victor of the 10th Hunger Games. I don't know, nor would I care how did she win her Games, but since she won, she will be valuable for when I am to be mentored. I do know she have a son who is fifteen years old now, and is possibly one of the very, very few people in District 10 who could possibly be a Victor.

"Now then, onto the Reapings! Ladies first, as always." The escort smiled, as she walked over to the girl's bowl and picked up a name. There was total silence over the girls side of the square as the escort walked over to the microphone.

"Kimberly Karalis."

I came to regret standing in the back, as I am unable to see whoever the poor girl is. It wasn't until she reached the stage that I am able to get a glimpse at her. Redhead, around my size, and a look of pure horror on her face. I recognize her, well she is my neighbor's daughter's friend, and she is known for her 'beautiful' singing voice around the District. What can singing do in the Games? Looks like District 10 is not having a girl Victor at least this year.

The escort, who is slightly disappointed, goes over to the boy's bowl and picked up a name deep in it. I can only hear the sound of my heartbeat, as the whole side gone deafly quiet. I only had my name in there three times due to tesserae, but what is three against more than five hundred other boys in District 10. I bet they even have tesserae as well. After picking a slip, the escort went back to the mike and read out the name.

"Dusk Moon."

Well, what luck. Seems like my victory will be earlier than I thought.

I struggle to keep a straight face, but fails as a grin adorn my face. I will be able to avenge my sister, and not only that, but also my father. I will be able to finally kill an actual human, and not just animals I pick off from the streets. My enemies will fear me, and everyone will know my name. I am elated, thrilled at the thoughts of killing off each of tributes one by one. Especially the ones who without any remorse took away my sister from me.

The escort may seems disappointed, but what makes her think I care about what she thinks. If I was able to, I would kill her off without a second thought. Walking up to the stage, my grin stretched wider as I personally flips off a Peacekeeper as I got to the front. The escort looks immensely dissatisfied at what she will have to deal with for at least one week and a half before I claim my Victory in the arena. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I come out alive and very well breathing. All of them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, District 10 tributes!" She said without that much enthusiasm as what she started off with. We were instructed to shake hands as I looked at my District partner. I want to especially kill her off as well. I don't care what types of dreams or family she have, only I am able to claim the crown, and I when the times come, I will play with her. Give the audience a sideshow, right after the main ones with those bastards. The ones who trained all their lives, but will fail against my feet. I still kept the massive smile on my face as I shook her hand, uncaring about the disturbed look on hers.

Oh, this will be a Games no one will ever forget.

* * *

1st POV- North Dakota- District 7 Female Tribute- Age of 14.

* * *

Is it bad that I couldn't really sleep last night? Maybe the beating my dad gave me was hard enough to keep me awake? But, then again, why am I afraid of getting out of bed? I have been battered before, some much worse, so why am I am scared?

**Duh! Today is Reaping! A chance for me to spill some blood!**

_No, killing is wrong! The Games are just torturous and twisted! Why would I go in there!?_

**Don't be so soft! What if I get reaped today? It will release myself of my emotions, and turn it into pain and suffering for my victims.**

_They got lives! They got dreams! Why would I be excited for going in there!?_

**The amount of blood on my hands will make my dick father tremble in fear! Who knows? Maybe I can kill him after I come back from the arena.**

_He might be mean, but he is still my dad! And the blood on my hands won't make any difference! Innocent are innocent!_

Or maybe it is my consciousness arguing back and forth over my head for the past night. I have this thing, a split personality perhaps, one in my brain, and the other one is me. I can't remember exactly when South, the other part of me, showed up, but the farthest I can remember was when my father started venting his anger out on me, and my twin sister Almond. Constantly leaving us with bruises, and sometimes when he is feeling more miserable, broken bones.

**That is why I need to be Reaped. Win the Games, then kill him afterward!**

_And what will that change? I will just be a bigger monster than he is!_

Shaking my head in frustration, I just got off my bed, not bothering to eat breakfast, put some tattered jeans and a shirt, not caring to fix up my scarlet hair, as it already covered my right eye, and headed out the door. In school, we learned how to tell time by looking at the sky, which the workers in the woodlands are required to learn, so they will know an estimated time of when the shift is done, or when it is time to relocate to another section of the forest. The sun was high above in the sky, but exactly directly straight up, and considering it is summer time, I would say it is around 10:00.

Enough time for me to go to my corner of the woods, which is all surrounding District 7, and heading off deep in it. Trekking through broken branches, and the crunches of leaves under my sandals, I stopped at a small clearance, not large, but like, four to five trees missing, and sat down near a tree. Looking back up at the sky, I say it took me around twenty minutes to get here. Normally it would take thirty, but maybe the nervousness of the Games pushed me faster.

Breathing in slowly, trying to calm myself, I grabbed a bag of nuts of the hole I kept near a tree, and grabbed a handful of it. Spreading out on the leafy woodland floor, it didn't take long before the white feathered mockingjay came and began eating some of the nuts. I smiled as I sit back and watch them dine. My thoughts were away from the Reaping, away from my father, and away from any problems I have. I feel like I am in a sense of peace, almost, as I whistled a melody to the birds.

They chirped the melody again, and I threw in more nuts. As one landed on my hand.

Innocent, pure, away from the evils of this world. And even they exist here, their minds are elsewhere, in happiness.

Something snapped in me, as rage consumed me, and my eyes slits in anger. I can feel my face contort in fury, as I gripped the bird by its neck, choking the life out of it. This thrill is still not complete, as the animal in my clutches is still breathing, still alive. Hatred controlled me, as I scraped the bird against the bark of the tree I was resting on, grinning in bloodlust and red stains painted the trunk of the tree. Dropping the now dead corpse. A small laughter escaped my lips, as the other mockingjays flew away in fright. Chirping loudly throughout the foliage.

**Oh yeah! Now that is how it is done! The thrill is amazing, isn't it? Let that thing rot for all I care, there are still many more I can kill from!**

After settling down, I looked back at the sky, seeing the sun more overhead, I concluded that it is near 11:00, and that I may need to go back home to pick up Almond. Sprinting back through the path I came, it took me less time to come back to my fenceless backyard, and went back inside the house. The sound of the old light flickering in our small cabin house filling the background, I opened the door to Almond's room, expecting her to be awake and getting ready.

But, no one was there. Confused, I decided to check my father's room, only to find the same emptiness of no life possessing it. The only sound I heard was the tick-tock of the alarm in my dad's room, and the low buzz of the bulb in the kitchen. Going over to the room besides Almond's, my room, I went by the dresser and checked the time in the clock.

12:10 PM.

_Damn it! Just what I need!_ I internally growled, as I ran back to my room and opened the dresser. What was inside of it are far behind in the term 'fancy', and the few contents in it that was _barely_ decent was wrinkled and old. It have actually been quite a while since we had some new apparel. Economic drop, lack in funds, and all those financial talk, though recently prices have been improving. Maybe after the Reaping I can snag my dad's wallet and buy some new clothes for me and Almond. She would appreciate it, and it will be nice to have something good for a change.

Putting on a brown blouse with some dark blue jeans and some work shoes that seems satisfactory enough, I sprinted out of my house and kept on running through the lower class area of District 7, which is basically where I live throughout my life. The only time I ever go to the upper class was only on Reaping day, or that year where the T.V was broken, and we had to view the Games in District Center. I was never really impressed by how pristine the Justice Building was, or how shiny and 'glorious' the Capitol appeared on T.V. It seems all make believe in there, and the people who live and run it are just plain disgusting.

Sweat poured down my face, as I continued running pass through house. I saw a bicycle lying near another slum of a cabin, with trash and junk littered on the lawn. I can't afford to be late, and I assume that whoever owns this house is in the Center already, so I hopped on into the bike and drove off, pedaling as quick as I could. It was a much smoother ride from there, as the dirt road of the poor section of District 7 switched into more paved, grey looking streets, as the more modern building that adorned most of the upper class and some middle class came into sight.

My hands was already beaded with sweat as I zoomed pass several older women and pulled the bike into a stop. I ran up to the sign up sheet, as I could feel the irritation of the Peacekeepers hit me. I paid them no mind as I gave out my information. They pricked my hand with some weird machine, but it only stings for a little while, nothing to really lose sleep over, as I ran to the fourteen year old section barely twenty seconds away from the official beginning of the Reaping.

The bell at the top of the Justice Building rang, indicating it was 12:30, and it was finally time for the Reaping. A short and mascaraed lady took the stage, she had bright sunny blonde hair, as her body was still developed even though her height is lacking. The escort had a more high pitched Capitolian accent, which finds it humorous to me. Those weird verbal ticks that those Capitol people sound is always something to joke about at school.

"Hello citizens of District 7! I am Jennisa, your escort for this amazingly awesome Hunger Games!" She screeched in delight. I put my hand above my ears in annoyance, since the high pitched shrill of that woman harm my eardrums already. I feel sorry for whoever have to put up with her this year.

"First, their is a video of so much truth and meaning developed for you all! Enjoy and pay attention!" Jennisa announced in glee, as I immediately tuned out the beginning booming voice out from the loudspeakers. I checked around my age section, scooting around ignoring the aggravated looks of the other girls, and searched for Almond. I spotted her near the edge, and moved across the rows of fourteen year olds and next to my twin sister. She nodded her head and smiled, as the video was over.

Next, our mayor, whom is some tall guy whose haven't even been married yet, and from what gossip is going around, is buying whores with him to bed, some even my age. Just rumors that I barely pay attention to, but it just creeps me out. Sickening and perverted. The guy drawled on the Treaty of Treason and read out our only two Victors so far. There was the large, bearded, and muscular Richard Astern, Victor of the 4th Hunger Games. Despite his large and intimidating body, he is pretty soft at heart, and is currently married with six children, all who are over Reaping age. Then, there is Morty Pines, who have survived the 16th Hunger Games. Unlike his predecessor, he isn't large and is pretty skinny. I don't know how he won his Games, but he is living proof you can't judge something by its cover.

After he was done with his duties for the Reaping, the cheery and all to happy to deliver us to our deaths escort practically jumped her way to the microphone, and in come the attack on our ears.

"Isn't that exciting?! Now, here is the most amazing part of the day. Reaping! But this year, I am going to switch it up, so guys are first!"

_No one cares..._ Well, at l don't. Why can't just get it over with already? I am already becoming nervous at the prospect of the Games. Killing and all. Why would people enjoy taking other people's lives anyways? Such disgusting, and vile.

**Because it is fun. Besides, wasn't it when I was back in the woods? With those birdies.**

_I thought you left, and I was done with you. And no, it is NOT fun, it is just terrible to think that people like you would even enjoy ripping away other people's dreams and future._

**The thrill, the excitement and pleasure of power. I know I enjoyed it, so don't tell me you didn't as well.**

_That wasn't of my choice..._

"I volunteer!" A voice rang through the crowd. I looked up, confused, as a brown shaded guy, with some long brown hair reaching down to his neck, hiding most of his two eyes from view came walking down the aisle, and to the stage. He was tall, overshadowing the small escort, and his muscles bulged in view due to his short sleeved polo shirt. If I haven't known better, I would have thought he was a Career. Volunteering, and toned body, though, I was oblivious throughout the picking of a boy's name, or if a name was even called out. Could we actually have a Victor this year? We haven't had one since Morty won his nearly fourteen years ago.

"Yes! A strong and handsome volunteer! Isn't this amazing and exciting everyone?" Jennisa squealed in delight. I am guessing because she will gain more social input because she had a volunteer from District 7. A District that is usually marked as Bloodbath, and whose most citizens live out in the woods in cabins and labor away at trees. Not really a splendid reputation, but if this brute have brains, then we might actually get to have extra food in the end of all of this.

"What is your name? Don't be shy, we all want to know!" The escort asked the guy. She must be pretty dense to miss the plain look of annoyance on his face, and his fist clenching tightly. If he punched her, it will make mine, and most likely, everyone's day.

"Holden Volke." He told the jabbering escort simply as she plastered on a huge grin on her face.

"All right, splendid so far! Onto the girls! Maybe we might have another possible Victor again!" She sighed at the prospect. I had to hold a laugh. Most of the girls here are no where near fighters, or physically fit to survive long. The ones that might stand a chance probably wouldn't have the heart to kill someone, and even then there are very few in numbers of that quality. Heck, I can even count them off by my fingers.

The jittery escort bounced her way to the girls bowl, and slowly swirled her hand around the slips. Anxiety filled me up again, as it became clear everyone had a chance in getting Reaped. Ignoring all of the probability and rationality the betters usually count on, everyone had a chance, whether you had fifty slips or even one. It is absolutely frightening. My fear doubled as the escort walked to the microphone, with a slip in hand. She slowly opened it, gently tearing off the seal that conceal the name, and read it out clearly.

"North Dakota."

I stiffened in place, as I heard a gasp from my side. My sister Almond looked at me, with tears already dripping down from her eyes. I could only just stare, as Jennisa repeated my name, clearly annoyed by the fact no one is coming up. I could hear stomping, as a trio of Peacekeepers started coming for me.

I couldn't die, I wouldn't go in! I refuse! Just when the first one started to grab me, holding my arm. I clenched my teeth down on the fleshy part not covered by the armor, as deep red liquid drenched the cloth in it. He let out a furious scream, and I ran pass the other two Peacekeepers running towards a street that leads my way out of here. My freedom was short lived, as I saw a pack of those white armored bastards swarm around me. Two of them lifted me up by my arms and dragged me back to the square.

I let out a furious cry, as I yelled out every obscenities I knew of, trying to kick the one to my right's leg. Next thing I know, I was on the stage, as they dropped me on the wooden floor. I heard some laughing in the seats behind, as I immediately turned around and glared at whoever was making that sound. It was Richard, as it he shook his burly head, communicating on with Morty.

"A fighter I tell you, both of them." I heard, as the escort came over and tried to 'help' me up, most likely to boost her reputation. At least, that what I think. I desperately wish I was able to kill her right now. But instead, I spat in her eye. Her disgusted scream was pure music to my ears, as my now District partner looked at me with an annoyed expression. Hell, I would kill him too.

After Jennisa finished 'cleansing' her self. She agitatedly walked up to the microphone, as I remained there, with a furious look on my face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this year's District 7 tributes." She announced plainly, as me and the volunteer didn't even bother to shake hands, as I was lead to the Justice Building, with a large amount of Peacekeepers at my heel. South may have influenced me, I may have hated her for doing it, but, for once, I might need it now. For I am damn well going to come back alive.

There will be no more running. Just you wait and see.

* * *

**I am deeply, terribly sorry for the month long wait. School, essays, and life just got in the way. Here is the third of four Reaping chapters, and I love your reviews guys. It really motivates me to keep writing.**

**One more Reaping left till the Train Rides. I believe I told you all this but let me repeat: There are NONE goodbye scenes. We will get flashbacks and implications from other tributes about it, but I want to get to the Pre-Games quickly. I know you are all starved for the Games to begin and I don't want to keep you hungry.**

**I believe that is all. Continue to support. Happy Hunger Games!**


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